


An Experimental Design

by TriplePirouette



Series: The Pain Scale [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, F/M, Howard does an experiment, Phillips is pissed, Steggy Bingo Bash 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28725456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriplePirouette/pseuds/TriplePirouette
Summary: Sequel to “What Number?”, also prompted from Steggy Bingo Bash Prompts.  Takes place about a week after that fic. Peggy's at a nine, and Steve is nowhere to be found.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: The Pain Scale [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104047
Comments: 94
Kudos: 112





	1. Far

**Author's Note:**

> You absolutely have to read “What Number?” to understand anything going on in this. Steggy Bingo Bash Prompt “Chester Phillips.” There will probably be about 3-4 chapters in this story. Not entirely sure yet.

Peggy marched through the halls of the SSR, gritting her teeth tight. She was at a nine, a high strung, desperate nine, but there was nothing to be done for it.

She’d tried, on her own, last night, but her own hands didn’t temper the pain and she couldn’t get herself off while the agony seared through her.

He’d asked her, before he went, if she wanted him to stay. She regretted her decision, now. She’d never gone more than eight hours since that fateful day when he took her from the Hydra base and his touch soothed every inch of her.

The mission had been simple: in and out with a high value target that was looking to defect in six hours or less.

They’d lost contact with the Commandos around hour eight.

It had been twenty-two hours since she’d touched him, and every cell in her body was screaming.

She stopped, gripping the doorway of the communications room as she leaned in. “Any word yet, Private?”

The young man at the console turned, his face stoic. “Not yet, Ma’am.”

She nodded moving along, missing the cold metal of the doorframe in her hand. The bunker was all cinderblock and metal and cool dirt floors and she was about ready to roll herself along one just to get some relief.

Steve hadn’t let her get to a nine in weeks and she had forgotten just quite how painful it could get. He could see the way her eye jumped, the way she hid it from everyone else, long before she got to her nine, and never hesitated to act.

~*~

* * *

_“You’re sure?” He asked softly, his chest pressed against hers._

_She leaned back, sitting on his knees. Straddling him had its advantages, especially when they had nearly no clothes left on. She ran her hands down his chest. “Six hours. Eight if it gets bad? Longest we’ve had to wait is twelve and I only made it to an eight then. I can make it.”_

_He shook his head, concerned at the ‘stiff upper lip’ she was giving him. “Peggy?”_

_She let the façade fall, sighing. “We have to try. If I can’t survive you going on missions then we have to talk to Howard.” She shook her head. “As much as I like all this, if I literally can’t exist on my own without touching you…”_

_He brushed her hair back from her face, forcing her to look up at him. “You know how I feel about getting help with this.”_

_“And I appreciate very much that you’re letting me do it in my own time.” She leaned forward, kissing him gently. “I’m sure I’ll find a way to survive the day without you.”_

_~*~_

* * *

_‘I’m sure I’ll find a way to survive the day without you.’_

It echoed in her head as she felt the lighting pulse through her again, mocking her. Every minute that passed by seemed to take hours, and she could only hide for so long. She was due at a briefing with Phillips. The Colonel overlooked many things, but she didn’t know how well she could hide this.

She pulled the files from her desk, moving to the conference room and taking a seat towards the back of the table. The farther away from Phillips, the better. She kept her head down, looking through reports she already knew by heart, scribbling at making notes as the conference room filled in.

Phillips joined them not two minutes later; his face gruff as he sat at the head of the table. “Let’s keep this quick, today. I have a call with the General this afternoon.”

Peggy almost sighed in relief when he said he wanted to keep it brief. She could do this, she could make it through the afternoon briefing without crying out, without making a scene.

The nine was creeping up to a ten. There was no way to stop it.

She focused on her breathing, slow and steady as Smith filled Phillips in on a hostage situation. Martin talked for what felt like hours about an ammunition logging discrepancy.

It was during Martin’s droll recounting of how forty bullets got misplaced that she noticed Phillips glance at her.

Normally, she’d smile, share the moment with the man and joke about it later. No one cared where forty bullets went in this damned war, least of all Phillips, especially if, as Martin ended up explaining, he’d later found them.

Peggy knew that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t share the joke today. She attempted to smile, but it came out a wince. She was sweating. Her thighs were shaking and she tried to hide it by tapping her foot. She was spiraling down, fast, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

“Carter,” Phillips nearly barked, stopping Martin’s final accounting of weapons. “You all right?”

“Fine, Sir.” Her voice was clipped. “A bit under the weather.”

He eyed her suspiciously, but it was a Sargent she wasn’t familiar with that opened his mouth. “Missing her boyfriend, no doubt.”

Phillips pounded the table with his fist, the first signs of laughter among the men dying out at his serious expression. He looked at all of them, his eyes sweeping over each man before he spoke. “Good men are missing, you don’t joke about it.” He looked down at his papers, rearranging them, his eyes kept firmly down as he spoke to avoid accusing anyone specific. “And don’t think for a second I don’t know every single thing that happens on and around this base. I can only turn a blind eye for so long, and every one of you should be very, very aware of that fact.”

The silence after his veiled threat only served to accentuate Peggy’s shuddered breathing.

Phillips eyed her for a long moment, folding his hands in front of him. He didn’t look away, and she held his gaze. “Carter, you puke on my table, you’re cleaning it up, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

He moved on to Hobbs, letting the man talk him through the planned extraction of an undercover agent, his eyes drifting to her every few seconds.

She couldn’t see her notes, didn’t even pretend to be paying attention anymore. Her hands gripped the table, her eyes pressed closed. Her hair was matting to her head and she couldn’t help the way her legs shook.

Phillips put his hand up, stopping Hobbs. “Carter, get out of here. Go find a medic.”

She couldn’t answer him, couldn’t even hear him as the migraine she had began pounding in her ears. She pushed back from the table, her head in her hands.

It made the men around her jump in surprise as her chair slid back across the floor. Phillips was on his feet, pushing the man next to him out the door. “Medic, now.” His order wasn’t loud, but insistent and worried. “Carter?”

Instead of answering him, something she physically couldn’t do, she rolled from the chair. She didn’t feel the impact on the cement floor, but instead felt the coolness of the cement on her body. She pressed her face into the ground as Phillips rounded the table, some of the other men already moving it to the side to give her room.

“Carter?” He bent down, his hand on her shoulder, shaking her.

She cried out, the scream full of anguish and pain at his touch. She hadn’t felt this level of pain since she’d been in that godforsaken Hydra lab.

He pulled his hand away like he’d been burnt, watched as she curled back into herself, convulsing and whimpering on the ground.

Phillips looked up at the Sargent, eyes full of fear. “You think she’s missing her boyfriend now?”

~*~

* * *

Steve pressed on, though Dum Dum tried to hold him back. “We need to stop, Cap. We can’t go any further tonight.”

“I can’t,” he argued, pulling out of Dum Dum’s grip. “I can’t explain why, but I need to get back as soon as possible.”

Dugan let him get a few paces away before he called out. “You’re no good to her if you’re dead.” Steve froze. “What happens then, huh? When a sniper you didn’t even know was there puts two in your forehead before you can get your shield up?”

Steve turned, looking at the man, broken and frustrated.

“We know that there’s something going on with her, Cap. We know it has something to do with whatever they did to her in that goddamned lab and we’re all trying to get you back to her as fast as we can because we know you can fix it somehow.”

Some of the tension in Steve melted away. “You know?”

Dugan smiled, stepping closer to him. “You two go into a tent, her sounding like she’s dying, a minute later it sounds like a brothel, and in the morning she’s as good as new?” Dugan shrugged. “It’d be easy to just say she’s just like all the rest of us, gets the shakes, gets a little unnerved now and again and needs a buddy to talk to or a bottle to drink, but I’ve seen her go from ready to jump off a cliff to damn right calm just because you held her hand since that day we rescued her. That’s not nothing.”

Steve hung his head. “We don’t know what’s wrong with her. Can’t explain it.” He sighed, “She needs to touch me, skin to skin, and it goes away.”

Dum Dum reached out, then let his lips crook up in a silly half smile. “Well, if that ain’t romantic.” His attempt to lighten the mood did little, but Steve nodded in appreciation. “We’re gonna get you back to her, we just—”

“She’s never gone this long.” He said, his voice cracking with worry. “It was supposed to be six hours.”

“And we were supposed to be pulling out a scientist trying to defect from a nunnery, not fighting off half of the Nazi party at a Hydra stronghold.” Dugan set his arm around Steve’s shoulders, turning him back towards the little camp they were setting up. “Us non-super soldiers just need a few hours. Some sleep, try to fix the comms, we’ll be up and marching soon.”

Steve nodded, knowing his friend was right, he was far too distracted to go traipsing through enemy territory by himself. “A few hours.”

Dugan nodded. “Peggy will be fine, she’s got the finest minds in the Allied Powers on that base.”

~*~

* * *

“Jesus Christ, Stark, are you an imbecile?” Phillips barked, watching through the glass of the observation window. Peggy was writhing in the bed on the other side, pulling the IVs from her arms. “Help the damn woman!”

“PhDs, not MDs!” Stark cried, pacing behind the man. Howard stopped at his side, throwing up his hands. “Go yell at one of the actual doctors, because none of this makes any sense. She’s fine. She’s literally absolutely one hundred percent, healthy based on everything they’ve showed me and all the tests they’ve run with the exception of her elevated blood pressure.”

Phillips swept a hand out, gesturing to the room beyond them where Peggy was curled on her side, sobbing. His eyes wide, he threw his arm out again, gesturing wildly. “That is not, by any means, healthy.” When Howard didn’t back down Phillips rubbed his hand over his mouth, turning away from the window. “I watched that woman take two bullets in the shoulder and barely wince,” he began turning back to Howard, “She trekked through enemy territory with a sprained ankle and a six-year-old on her back evacuating a town before Hydra could get to it. I have never seen that woman do more than purse her lips and move on and now she looks like this?”

Howard shook his head. “She was in that Hydra base for 16 hours. I should have insisted she let someone look at her.”

“You insist with Peggy Carter you’re risking your life,” Phillips supplied, nearly laughing. “I thought she and Rogers were hiding something from me when they got back, but I just figured it was more hand holding behind the mess. God, that kid still makes me cry.”

Howard stopped, looking up at Phillips. “You know they’re…?”

Phillips scowled. “The things I don’t know about what goes on at this base could fill a thimble.” He sighed, sitting at the small table in the room, his voice growing more sarcastic by the second. “Yes, I know they’re making moon eyes at each other like two teenagers and take long romantic walks in the woods and sometimes he even comes back with, dare it I say it, lipstick on his collar.” He sighed. “As long as the wrong people don’t catch them and I don’t get an official complaint, I can ignore it just like I ignore a lot of other men and women sneaking off when they think people aren’t looking.” This time, Phillips did laugh at Howard’s amazed expression. “It’s war, Stark, you think I’m going to deny these soldiers a little comfort and pleasure while they’re laying down their lives?”

Howard opened his mouth to reply, but was swiftly cut off by a guttural scream from the room beyond them. Peggy had rolled to her side and was kicking off the blankets.

“Burns,” she yelled out, left with only the raspiest of voices after crying out for hours on end.

Phillips put his head in his hands. “How much more pain medication can we give her?”

Stark sighed, walking up to the glass. “We’ve already maxed her out on morphine. She should barely be alive, never mind awake and in pain with the amount she’s had.”

Without warning Peggy went silent, sitting up in her hospital bed, eyes glued to the door.

The silence made both men stand tall, eyes glued to her to see what she would do. The commotion from beyond the doors made the turn, Phillips pulling open the door and stepping out into the hallway to see a crowd. MPs were unsuccessfully holding back a nearly feral Captain Rogers, the rest of the commandos standing behind him, guarding his back and removing personnel from the area by force.

“Rogers! What the hell is going on?”

“Where is she?” He demanded, eyes wild, pushing past the MPs, using their surprise at Phillips’ voice to overpower them without hurting them. “Where?”

Howard swallowed hard, setting his jaw and pointing to the door beyond him.

Phillips, however, was not satisfied. “Oh no, you have a lot of explaining to do, and a debrief,” he pushed in front of Steve, half angry as hell that the mission hadn’t gone anywhere near planned, and half hoping to keep him from seeing the painful sight that was Peggy Carter.

Steve, without preamble, pushed past Phillips and disappeared into the door beyond. “Sorry, Colonel, you can charge me with insubordination later.”

Howard reached out, putting a hand to Phillips chest as he tried to follow him, the Commandos starting to flank and guard the rooms. Phillips looked at Howard’s hand, then up at his face, his disbelief that Stark would stop him evident.

“He didn’t ask how she was, or what happened,” Howard pointed out quietly. “he just wanted to know _where_ she was.”

“Skinny bastard knows something.” Phillips murmured as the realization downed on him.

Howard huffed, “You’re going to have to stop calling him that one day.”

“No, I don’t.” Phillips started to move forward, but was intercepted by Dugan, Jones, and Sawyer, who turned him back towards the hall.

“We’ll debrief you, sir,” Jones supplied, pulling Howard by the collar after him.

Phillips set his feet, turning back towards the room. “I don’t think so, I think I’d rather be here for this.”

Dugan stepped in his path, shaking his head. “Colonel, sir, I can tell you with all due respect that from experience, you absolutely do _not_ want to be here right now.”

Phillips pondered yelling, even flat out decking the man for a moment, but was stopped by the loud, breathy moan that came from Peggy’s room.

He looked up: that had not been pain. That had, most certainly, been pleasure.

“You’re right, I don’t.” He led them out, Howard still being dragged by Jones, “But don’t think for one second I am letting any of this go.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”


	2. Crashing Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of what it means for Steve to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like cheating, but I’m using the Steggy Bingo Prompt “Comfort” for this chapter. Also, by an overwhelming 2 votes on Tumblr, you asked for it: porn AND plot. This sort of fits that. First few paragraphs overlap, time wise, with the end of the last chapter.

The feeling in the air was electric, raw. He could feel it sparking through his suit, raising the hairs on his arms. His heart was pounding in his chest, beating harder than he could ever remember it. Perhaps he was simply keyed up, knowing she was waiting for him, needing him, but he knew, deep down, it was something more.

It was barely a second that he paused at the door, making sure it was closed behind him, but it might as well have been hours. He could feel her pain, feel her need and desire for him from across the room like a palpable heaviness to the air. He looked up, found her trembling on her knees on the bed, draped only in a barely tied hospital gown, hair wild and eyes wide.

Her hand was shaking with the effort to stay where she was, her thighs quaking from holding herself up. She licked her lips, and he was done.

Without a word he was moving, long, heavy steps as he tossed his cowl aside and unzipped his jacket. His chest was finally bare when he caught her as she leapt into his arms from the bed. Peggy pressed her body to his, the moan of relief that came from her lips positively lurid as she finally, finally found some relief from the pain.

Steve held her close with one hand and worked unsuccessfully at tearing the hospital gown away with the other, struggling to keep as much of them pressed together as he could. “I’m sorry,” he murmured over and over, nuzzling against her.

“You’re…” her voice was hoarse and she had to stop and swallow, take a deep breath and try again. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“I’m sorry I’m late. It was worse than we imagined. And I’m dirty, I’m disgusting. I’m sorry, Peggy, We’ve been walking—”

She kissed him, forcing him to stop talking as she pressed her lips to his. She pulled away, sliding her face to the side of his, keeping their cheeks pressed tight. “I was worried, but you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He moved them to the bed, stopping when it hit his knees. He laid her on it gently, and her whimper of pain when he pulled away broke his heart. “Strip,” he ordered, his hands moving to his own belt. She was able to devest herself of the flimsy cloth quickly, and stripped her panties off without thought.

“How bad?” he asked as he bent down, untying his boots. He wasn’t surprised to feel her cold hands on his back; he arched up to let her press more of her body into him. He was unsure sure if it was tears of relief or pain he saw in her eyes when he looked up, but the fact that she wouldn’t answer him, or couldn’t, told him all he needed to know.

~*~

* * *

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know,” Dugan started, seated across from Phillips. Dugan’s voice was even as he recounted finding the nunnery to be a front for a Hydra base and how their intel had been a trap all along.

Howard, for his part, didn’t care about a nunnery. He paced in the back of the room, Dugan and Jones taking turns as they talked Phillips through the events of the last thirty or so hours.

Howard was more concerned with whatever the hell was going on between Steve and Peggy. With each pass of the room, he tried to put together what he knew, but it made little, if any sense to him.

He didn’t like it when he couldn’t figure out a problem, and this was a problem of the highest order.

Peggy was in horrible pain that didn’t respond to heavy doses of medication. The only thing that seemed to take away that pain was skin to skin contact with Steve. Peggy’s pain got worse the longer she didn’t have skin contact with Steve. He shuddered as he thought about the fact that there was some kind of sexual component to all of this. Howard knew the man didn’t want to do much more than declare his intentions for Peggy while the war was on, they’d talked about it once not too long after he’d explained to the poor boy what fondue meant.

Howard had never met a man more in touch with or surer of his moral compass. If something was forcing Steve against that compass, it was big and scary and threatening to Peggy. That was the only thing he could believe would make Steve go against his plans to be respectful and chaste during this war.

Dugan yammered on, Philips hanging on his every word as he made notes. Howard couldn’t put the pieces together, couldn’t find the through line that made sense.

“Stark,” Phillips barked out, “Stop pacing. You’re making me seasick.”

It had to be a side effect of something, had to be working wrong for her to be in that much pain, he figured, ruffling his hair and trying to still himself against the wall.

~*~

* * *

“We’re talking to Howard,” Steve whispered, holding her close. She was still trembling in his arms, the two of them tangled together. Steve was glad he’d kept his boxer shorts on, had he not, he might have lost control and taken her ask she kept begging him to. As it was, the bed had creaked perilously under them as they’d crashed together, relishing every inch skin as she moaned and writhed in his arms, the pain melting to passion with each touch until she fell apart in his embrace. His own shorts were soiled, though he’d gotten over him embarrassment of that weeks ago. 

“I collapsed in a briefing,” she whispered into his throat, lips gliding over the skin, “and you just ignored a commanding officer’s order to fraternize with me, to put it lightly. We’re both getting sacked.” She clutched at him like she had that first night, afraid to let go, afraid to feel the pain surge through her again. “The MPs will be showing up any moment, I’m sure,” her voice was tinged with sadness and fear, the loss real for her already.

Steve took a deep breath, taking his time and letting his hand smooth through her hair, the number of tangles against his fingers telling him so much about how long she’d been out of control. “They need us.”

Peggy laughed, a bark of disbelief and surprise. “Like a hole in the head, I’m sure.” She sighed as he pulled the scratchy hospital blanket up over their bodies, “At least I’m sure that’s what Phillips would say.”

He kissed her forehead slowly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Peg, but we have to get you help.”

She nodded against him, yawning. “Yes, please.”

~*~

* * *

Howard circled the room, sitting on the edge of the Colonel’s desk quickly as the topic switched quickly. “Tell me everything you know.”

Phillips looked at the man with barely contained frustration. “Ass off my desk, Stark.”

Jones and Dugan tried not to laugh as the man scrambled to stand again with no chairs left in the room. Dugan swallowed down his mirth and looked cautiously between the two men. “Colonel, I don’t know much…”

Phillips nodded. “Anything you know would be appreciated, though we will have a discussion about why it was left off the official record, son.”

Dugan nodded before looking at Jones then back at Stark before finally resting his gaze on Phillips. “See, everything that was in my report and the sitrep was true. I grabbed Morita and ran, Cap went back in looking for Peggy. All the recon we had said it would be a quick in and out, I didn’t think to say anything about it because it was a sound tactical decision.” Phillips nodded, Dugan’s eyes bouncing nervously from Stark to the Colonel. “It was when I found them that we started leaving things out. I said she was weak, but in truth…”

Dugan’s eyes glazed over, his mind far away. “She was in pain. A lot of pain, and I couldn’t see anything that would explain it. Cap carried her back to camp and the sounds she was making…” he shook his head.

Jones took over, “We all offered to break camp, but the Captain refused, said she needed rest.” He looked down at his hands, a blush creeping up his neck. “They weren’t… they didn’t rest.”

“I’m asking this because I need to know, men,” Phillips started, his lips pressed tight together. “Did Rogers force himself on—”

Howard was shocked. Jones’ head popped up, his expression and his lips denying it. Dugan was so affronted he stood, tossing his helmet on the ground at his feet as he loudly objected.

Phillips held up his hands to stop the cacophony the two men made. “I had to ask, you know that.”

“Jesus, Phillips,” Howard stepped back, folding his arms tightly. “As if that man was capable of that.”

Dugan, still affronted, sat slowly, the displeasure clear on his face. “It was just the opposite. Steve put her down to get her some water and she screamed like she’d been burned. Soon as he stopped touching her, she was in agony.” He shook his head. “Next morning, she walked out of that tent like nothing had ever happened, same old Peggy.”

“Was the damndest thing,” Jones said, eyes widening as he remembered. “Not a whimper, not a limp, nothing. She said she felt fine, and there was no reason to believe otherwise.”

Howard shook his head accusing both men. “And no one thought to say anything? She was in that much pain and no one said a word?”

Dugan and Jones sat, stone-faced and silent, against Howard’s accusations.

At their silence, Howard turned to Phillips. “We have to pull them both. I have to figure out what’s going on.”

Dugan started to object, “You can’t—”

Phillips silenced him, standing. “I can’t? Oh yes, I very well can and will.” He pointed at the door, leaning over. “You and those two idiots keeping this secret might have cost Agent Carter her life. What if this hadn’t been days but weeks? What if we shipped them out and hadn’t known? What if there are repercussions for Rogers we don’t know about yet that show up in the middle of a fire fight, huh? You got a good answer for that?”

“No, sir,” Dugan and Jones both parroted.

“’No, sir’ is damn right,” Phillips sat back down, eyebrows knitting together. “Damned fools, all of you.” He looked down as he folded his hands together. “They’re off active duty as of this minute, the both of them. Stark, they’re all yours.” He looked up at the man, serious. “Fix it.”

Howard nodded, knowing it was a serious order.

Phillips turned back to Dugan and Jones. “You two are going to help. As soon as those clowns are done doing whatever it is they’re doing in there, you’re taking whoever you need back to that base and getting any and all information you can by whatever means necessary. You understand me?”

Dugan and Jones nodded, standing and saluting. “Yes, sir.”

~*~

* * *

Steve dressed quietly as Peggy lay tucked up in the hospital bed, sleeping deeply.

He had questions, and was prepared to get down on his knees to beg for the help he knew Peggy needed when Phillips inevitably dishonorably discharged him.

He looked back at her, her hair still tangled, a smudge of dirt on her cheek where he’d touched her, the dirt of the firefight and a day marching still covering him. He felt like he was tainting her, despite how much she needed him.

Deep inside, he knew he needed her, too. He knew he could feel her now like he’d never felt her before, knew when she was close, could almost feel a fuzzy version of the pain she felt burning through her until he touched her. He was different, too, and that was every bit as concerning to him as her pain was.

He opened the door and slipped out, prepared to fight for them.


	3. Military Sanctioned Cohabitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard devises and experiment to see if they can figure out what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Steggy Bingo Prompt “Science Experiment.” This chapter is also inspired, in part, by the following quote from the movie Waitress, “I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that's all they do. They don't pull away. They don't look at your face. They don't try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness to it.”

Howard stared at them in disbelief. “You mean you…” he rolled his wrist around, watching as Steve turned a peculiar shade of red in front of him.

“Fondu.” Steve filled in quickly to end the torture, his face turning bright red. “Well, almost.”

Peggy rolled her eyes and huffed. She was still exhausted and already far past embarrassed, the use of euphemism was only prolonging her discomfort and wasn’t helping them at all. “Skin to skin contact helps, but then the quality of the pain changes. It only completely resolves once I’ve achieved orgasm. We’ve been dry humping like teenagers, Howard.” She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

Howard’s mouth hung open, his eyebrows at his hairline for a moment before he cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. They were sitting close, but not touching, across from him in his lab. It was late morning, and he’d emptied anyone and everyone who might overhear by kicking them out for lunch. Howard leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees. “And it’s only Steve?”

Peggy licked her lips, suddenly anxious. “When I fell in the briefing room, Colonel Phillips touched me. It felt like he’d torn my skin off.” Her eyes shifted between the two men. “I haven’t touched anyone else since Steve pulled me from the lab.”

Howard held out his hand slowly.

Peggy looked between Steve and Howard, and at Steve’s gentle nod, his promise that he’d be there for her if anything went wrong, she reached out and gently pressed her fingertips to his.

Relief flooded her face as she grasped his hand tighter. “Nothing.” She took a deep breath, smiling at both men. “Nothing good, nothing bad. Just… nothing.”

Howard chuckled as he let go of her, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life to hear that a woman felt nothing at my touch.”

Steve frowned, holding out his hand. Peggy took it and they all noticed her shoulders immediately relaxed, even though she was already happy.

“What just happened?” Howard asked, looking almost frantically between them. “What did you do?”

“I’m holding her hand,” Steve said harshly. After he left Peggy sleeping in the medical room he’d gone immediately to Phillips’ office where he’d been yelled at for over an hour. By the time Phillips ran out of things to say, Peggy was awake and asking for him. They’d barely had time to brush Peggy’s hair and find her some clothes before Howard was rushing them into his lab. Steve, who hadn’t slept in almost two days, knew he was unusually cranky and didn’t much care. “It calmed her down. Is that really that complicated, Howard?”

Peggy turned, looking at him, eyes reproachful. “Steve…”

“I haven’t slept since we left,” he leaned forward, putting his hands on his head and pressing his eyes shut tight. “I’m sorry, I’m exhausted.”

“Right, long few days,” Howard mumbled, even though he’d never, ever heard Steve bark at anyone like that, even going days without sleep. “I can understand that.” He didn’t understand it, though, and added it to his list of bizarre symptoms. Howard stood, zipping around the lab and coming back with a small ring with two keys on it. “You should get some rest.”

Steve and Peggy both looked at the keys, but Peggy beat him to the question. “What’s that for?”

Howard smiled and dangled them. “Seems dangerous to keep the two of you apart, and Phillips wants the you off base for a while. It’s an apartment just outside of London.” He bounced the keys, making them jingle in front of their faces. “Military sanctioned co-habitation.”

“Howard…” Peggy began to protest, but Howard held up his other hand, stopping her.

He dropped his hand and shrugged, handing Steve the keys. “You actually don’t get a say in this- it’s more of an experiment than anything.” He sat back down. “You told me the longer you’re apart, the worse it gets, right?”

Peggy nodded, still skeptical. “Correct.”

“Well, have you two tried _not_ being apart?” He held out his hands, waiting, but neither could answer him. He already knew that they hadn’t, that they’d separated to their respective bunks every night like the stupid, rule following idiots they were. “Right. Well, there’s our first experiment: Cohabitation for the night.” He pointed at the two of them, eyes serious. “Legitimate research here. Touch each other, hang out, but no hanky-panky, got it? Clothes stay on, yes?” Steve and Peggy nodded. “I want to see if proximity, casual touches, can keep this thing at bay.”

Peggy’s jaw tightened. “What if it can’t?” she asked quietly, her fear only partially hidden by how calm she was.

Howard just shrugged. “You two do what you gotta do, then we try something else.” Howard caught Peggy’s eyes, holding her gaze. “I never want to see you, or anyone, in that much a pain again. But if Dugan can’t find me anything to go on, if he can’t even get me a clue as to what the hell they did to you, then I’m going to have to keep you two apart just so we can figure it out.” Howard dropped his head, taking a deep breath. “You use the numeric pain scale, right?” Steve nodded. “It gets above a three you do what you have to do.”

~*~

* * *

It was small and sparsely furnished, the way most things seemed shabby and not quite what they used to be since the war had started. Peggy slipped her duffel off her shoulder and walked around, hands gently gliding over surfaces as she passed them, leaving Steve behind to lock the door and settle their bags. The front room was serviceable: a little coffee table and a small couch and a radio. The kitchen was little more than a nook, but it was useable and she tried not to think about when the last time she’d actually cooked herself a meal _was._ The bathroom was small, but cleaner and more private than anything on any base she’d seen. If the water was more than lukewarm, that alone would make this little experiment worth it.

She stopped at the door of the bedroom.

It had been months since she’d last slept on a real bed with real sheets and soft, fluffy pillows instead of the harsh, all weather canvas cots and bunks in flimsy tents and drafty bunkhouses the SSR provided. The bed took up nearly the whole room, mocking her.

_“When I make love to you, Peggy, it’s not going to be up against a wall or behind a medical tent or in some goddamn mudhole where we’re both wondering if we’ll be caught any second. It’s going to be on a soft bed with nice sheets so I can take my time and kiss every inch of you, ok? I’m not… you deserve better than some tryst in the woods, ok? You deserve better and I’m going to make sure you get better.”_

Steve’s voice echoed in her mind, his promise so sweet so long ago.

That choice, the choice to wait and discover one another when things were calmer, when they had all the time in the world and no duty but to one another, had been stolen.

Stolen by men behind surgical masks and clipboards.

Men who’d stripped her of her clothes and dignity.

Men who’d watched as her body had burned between pain and passion and she’d writhed on the table like some kind of snuff film actress.

A sob escaped her lips, biting and harsh. It surprised her in its ferocity, but the emotions behind it didn’t surprise her at all. She’d been holding them back for too long, trying and failing to channel them into her work.

Steve was behind her in an instant, his strong frame supporting her when her knees nearly buckled as the waves of emotion washed over her, tears pouring from her eyes. He spun her in his arms, tucking her gently to him, whispering words that made no sense to her in her hysterics.

Steve gently lowered them both to the ground, the wooden floorboards creaking below them as he held her tight.

~*~

* * *

Peggy woke up in the bed, tucked tight under the blanket, alone.

It was dark out; there was only blackness beyond the curtains, but there was light in the room coming from the crack left in the door. Beyond the room she could hear Steve puttering about in the kitchen. She took a deep breath, the sting at the back of her eyes from crying a feeling she hadn’t had in a very long time. She rubbed them, feeling worn out.

Steve had held her as she’d cried until she had spent herself. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours, she wasn’t sure. She vaguely remembered him lifting her in his arms, remembered him wrapping her up under the quilt then wrapping his body tight around her, her eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion.

It wasn’t surprising that her body was drained. Between the emotions and the physical sensations, she’d been through every extreme she could think of in the last day. Her limbs felt heavy, her stomach was flip flopping, and her head ached fiercely.

She rolled to the side and the sharp scent of Steve’s aftershave filled her nose. She took another deep breath, and felt some of the tension in her body drain.

Perhaps Howard was on to something, after all. She pealed herself from the bed, the chill in the room enough to make her shiver, but not enough to remind her of the cold of the front.

She padded quietly out of the room, squinting at the light as she emerged.

Steve smiled from where he stood at the small stove. “Good nap?”

Peggy pushed her hair behind her ears and nodded. “What are you making?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Chicken noodle soup.” He stirred the contents of the pot, “It was all that was there. Lots and lots of canned goods.”

Peggy’s smile was small, and she licked her lips. Slowly she moved over, hugging Steve tight from behind. Her head fit snugly between his shoulder blades, and she felt a bolt of calm move through her as he rubbed his hand over hers. “Thank you.”

He let his fingers lace with hers. “For what?”

“Everything.”

He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the side of her thumb fiercely. “Always.” He set the spoon he was holding down and turned in her arms, wrapping her tight in his embrace. “I love you, Peg, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

She was successful at keeping her tears at bay with his words, but her breath still shuddered a bit as her heart pounded. She didn’t let go, but held him tighter, and he didn’t seem to mind staying right there with her. After a long moment, she smiled into his chest. “Despite everything, this is nice.”

Steve hummed in agreement, his hand cupping the back of her head gently, combing through her curls. “Not looking over our shoulders, wondering if someone’s gonna catch us.”

“Being able to hold you whenever I want.”

“For as long as I want.” He kissed the crown of her head, smiling softly. He rocked her gently back and forth, but cut the motion short and pushed her away as he turned quickly, flicking the dial on the stove off as the soup bubbled over in its pot. “Ok, maybe not as long,” he laughed, reaching for the towel by the sink.

~*~

* * *

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, Steve’s feet flat on the floor and Peggy’s feet in his lap as he quietly sketched. She was trying to read the same novel she’d been attempting to get through for two months, but it couldn’t quite hold her attention. Every few minutes Steve would ponder his next line or curve and drop his hand to her ankle, rubbing gently.

It was a wonder, these small touches. They seemed so taboo, yet so natural, and it felt completely right to give in to the need to simply touch one another all the time. They’d held hands through most of dinner, the soup easy enough to navigate with one hand, and Steve had kept his chest pressed to her back as she’d quickly cleaned the dishes, his hands resting gently on her hips.

It felt odd to be the master of her own time, to not be needed urgently here or there, to not have a meeting weighing on her mind or a report due on the colonel’s desk. She’d shoved the paperback in her duffel hastily, thinking maybe she’d finally be bored enough to invest in the mediocre love story.

Steve’s hands were infinitely more interesting.

The way he carefully kept his pencil away from her skin.

The way he stroked gently in the same pattern over and over again.

The way his hand was warm and calm and never demanded more or strayed higher than mid-calf.

She was calm. Serene.

She didn’t even feel the slightest tingle of pain.

Hours ago, the idea of being pain free, after weeks of dealing with near constant aches and stings throughout her entire body seemed unattainable. Now, it was happening and within her grasp. She sighed happily, causing Steve to look up at her, hand still gently moving on her ankle.

“You ok?” he asked, slightly concerned.

“Zero,” she smiled softly at him, her eyes warm. “Nothing at all. It’s… blissful.”

His hand pressed firmly against her leg as he smiled. “I’m glad.”

~*~

* * *

Peggy hesitated before coming out of the bathroom.

The shower had been delightful, the feeling of the water on her skin without the underlying sparks searing through her made her muscles melt with relaxation. She’d taken her time, pinning up her hair and stretching out the little bit of night cream she still had left to try to last another day. When she’d finally looked at herself in the mirror, the calmness evaporated a bit at the image of her in her ill-fitting, army issue pajamas with her hair pinned up and devoid of any make-up. Even though they’d agreed that things would stay strictly to casual touch, she still felt a pang of disappointment that the first time they were sharing a sleeping space that wasn’t a hastily constructed tent in a warzone wouldn’t be the romantic affair she’d often daydreamed about.

With a deep breath she stepped out of the bathroom and into the small bedroom. The only light was from the bedside lamp, illuminating Steve as he sat on the side of the bed, waiting for her.

He swallowed heavily and looked for all the world like the skinny, awkward boy she’d first met. “I wasn’t sure what side you wanted…” He trailed off as he stood and gestured to the bed; freshly made, pillows fluffed and waiting.

She got the feeling that he was somehow trying to impress her, standing there in his own army issue pajama pants and slightly threadbare undershirt. He didn’t seem put off by her appearance, either, and she tried to feel good about it. The thought warmed her, but did nothing for her own nerves.

She shrugged, moving past him into the dim room. “No preference, really.” The words came out far more confident than she felt, her hands tugging at the ends of her sleeves. She stepped to the far side where she had woken up earlier this afternoon. “Shall we?”

Steve nodded, pulling the covers back on his side as she pulled back hers. They both gingerly got into the bed as Steve reached over and turned off the light with a soft click, bathing them in darkness as they both settled.

“Ok?” Steve asked quietly.

“Oh yes, yes,” she replied quickly, staring up at the ceiling.

Silence stretched between them for long, quiet breaths.

“This is weird, right?” Steve asked suddenly.

Peggy laughed, a feeling of relief flooding her now that it had been said out loud. “Oh yes, quite.” She turned on her side. “Not how I imagined this at all.”

“This?” Steve turned his head, and she could make his outline out in the dark.

“Sharing a proper bed.” She held out her hand and he took it reflexively, squeezing tight.

Steve didn’t think twice before lifting the blanket and tugging at her hand. “Come here.” Peggy slid over, cuddling against his side without hesitation. “That’s better. Finally get you in a nice, soft bed and you’re all the way over on the other side of no man’s land.”

“Howard said no hanky panky,” Peggy muttered, nuzzling against his chest. “The closer I get to you the higher the potential for panky.”

Steve chuckled, gently sliding his hand over her shoulder. “Yes, but he did also say casual touching. This is casual.”

Peggy hummed happily, already feeling the pull of sleep. “Yes, and it’s lovely.”

~*~

* * *

Dugan stepped over the debris, cursing under his breath. Morita’s words behind him weren’t that different.

“You think they left us anything?” Morita asked, picking through the rubble of the abandoned base.

“Don’t know,” Dugan dropped his gun to his side, reaching down to pick up an abandoned waste paper basket by a desk. He turned it over, but it was empty. “But we better find something if we’re gonna help Peggy.”

“We bring back every single piece of paper we find,” Jones said, traipsing past them, “we leave nothing behind.”


	4. Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This continues to satisfy the “Science Experiment” prompt from Steggy Bingo Bash.

“Powdered eggs or canned hash browns?” Steve asked, holding up the two options he found in the cabinet.

Peggy winced from her seat at the table, hands wound round her steaming cup of tea. “Those are our best bets?”

Steve shrugged. “Unless you’d like tomato soup for breakfast?”

“Hash browns it is.” She sipped her tea, watching Steve work at the stove. It was domestic and simple and it made her long for the war to end all the sooner. “Do you think…” she trailed off, unsure if she should share the sentiment.

“What?” he asked, separating the sliced potatoes into the pan, eyes firmly on his cooking.

“Well, it just seems that in our current state we’re both quite unable to be apart, and whatever is happening with me is likely medical. So, do you think they’ll… discharge me?” He didn’t answer right away, and she hurried to fill the silence, eyes never straying from the steam coming from her mug. “They won’t discharge you, that’s for sure, but I don’t know what they’ll do with me. I’m not all that useful if you’re—”

She hadn’t noticed that he’d moved to crouch next to her until his hand was on top of hers. He waited until she was looking in his eyes. “Doesn’t matter what they want to do. We’re staying together until we figure out how to help you. End of story.”

All Peggy could do was nod.

~*~

* * *

“Jesus, how many did you find?” Howard watched the Commandos stack the piles of paper in his lab.

Jones shrugged. “A lot, but all scattered, like they left in a hurry and stuff fell out of files.”

“No discernable order to the pages,” Morita threw in, “and who knows if they’re even relevant. All in German.”

“I can read some of it, but that doesn’t mean I understand it,” Jones chimed in. “We just took everything we found.”

Howard sat at his desk, letting his hand rest on the piles. “Shit.”

~*~

* * *

Midmorning found them settled back on the couch, the small radio in the corner playing soft, slow music while Steve tried his hand at a crossword puzzle he’d pulled from his duffel. Peggy, curled up on the opposite end of the couch, was having a bit more luck settling into her novel.

The slow, calm morning was nice: her cooling tea on the table across from her, Steve at her side, her body finally free of the halting shocks that had sent her to her knees over the last month. She had her head back, eyes closed, just enjoying the silence of the room as opposed to the hustle of the battlefield when there was a solid knock on the door.

While the knock on the door startled her, it positively sent Steve into a spiral. He was on his feet before her ears even registered the noise, pulling her up and shoving her into the kitchen, as far away from the door as he could get her.

Despite her initial protests, she quieted at the look on his face. She’d always trusted him; this shouldn’t be any different. Her heart began to pound as she heard him pull out his shield and he moved slowly towards the door. Maybe he heard murmurs she couldn’t, the cocking of a gun, the smell of explosives… there were hundreds of things his enhanced senses could notice before she could.

If Steve was nervous, she was, too.

Peggy wished she’s had the presence of mind to keep her gun closer instead of in the bedside table. She fumbled through the kitchen cabinets, settling for a knife that barely looked like it would cut through butter.

“Who is it?” Steve called to the door, his voice gruff and low, dangerous. Her heart pounded. She couldn’t hear the answer, but Steve spoke again quickly. “Leave them.”

She heard the door open and close a moment later, and she gripped her butter knife tighter. She counted to ten, and when no more noise was forthcoming, she called out. “Steve?”

“It’s fine, you can come out.”

Peggy slowly leaned out of the kitchen doorway, still brandishing her butterknife. Steve had abandoned his shield by the door and was sorting through two paper bags that looked to be filled with groceries, eyes suspicious. “Who was it?”

He looked up, jaw still tight. “Said his name was Jarvis, that Howard had asked him to drop by some essentials.”

Peggy carefully moved forward, reaching in to the bag and pulling out a small loaf of bread. She shrugged and tried to smile. “Better than soup.”

Steve didn’t smile, didn’t laugh. His shoulders were still tense, corded and tight and ready to react. Peggy stepped closer, reaching out slowly. He looked like a caged tiger ready to strike. “Steve?”

As soon as her hand touched his arm, he breathed a sigh of relief and his entire body seemed to relax. “Must still be tired.” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I overreacted.”

“I prefer over to under any day,” Peggy tried to reassure him as she stepped closer and he took her in his arms. The hug calmed them both. With each moment of contact Peggy could feel Steve’s pounding heart slow, and though she hadn’t felt any pain, she could feel her anxiety start to relinquish its hold on her. “Though I am a bit worried.” Peggy leaned back, running her hand over his cheek. “That was some reaction.”

Steve shook his head. “I guess I’m more worried than I thought. As soon as I heard that knock, I just felt this rush of…” He turned his head, kissing the palm of her hand as he tried to find the words. When nothing came, he huffed in frustration. “I just felt like I needed you safe.”

A small smile started to bloom on Peggy’s face as she held him tight. “I am safe, Steve. I’m right here, guarded by the best soldier in the world.”

He moved quickly, desperately, taking her lips. Her surprise was fleeting and she responded quickly, but moved to slow his desperation with gentle caresses over his shoulder and tiny pecks of her lips. She pressed him back, walking him to sit on the couch before straddling him gently, his arms moving around her without hesitation.

“Hold me, Steve,” she instructed softly as she laid her head on his shoulder, worry blooming in her again at his desperate touch. “Just hold me and breathe.”

~*~

* * *

Howard loomed over the young man helping to translate some of the papers. In four hours, they’d found mostly scraps of nothing: lunch orders, old memos, and barely legible notes. Until the one page. It was the first promising piece of information and boy, was it a piece of information.

“You’re sure that’s what it says? Howard asked, his voice quiet but forceful.

The young soldier nodded. “There isn’t much there, but what is there, I’m sure.”

It was the last page, and only page they seemed to have, of what looked to be a longer, handwritten document. There were only two sentences on it.

“You tell no one, got it?” Howard pointed his finger in the man’s face, “No one.”

The young man didn’t even look slightly intimidated. “Sir, everything I translate or decode is eyes only to me. I can’t talk about it to anyone.”

“Good. Good.” Howard grumbled, taking the paper. “Look for the rest of this, ok?”

He walked away, trying to figure out how to even begin to explain what this could mean to Phillips.

He’d wait. He’d have to wait until he knew more.

He looked down at the paper, quickly folding and shoving it in his pocket it as he moved through the base, not wanting anyone else to even potentially glance at it.

**_…potential use as live collateral. Feelings of desperation at separation may prove more useful in controlling the asset than current mind control techniques. Potency of the bond may have the unintended side effect of creating a viable breeding program._ **

Peggy was going to kill him. Literally.

~*~

* * *

Peggy was curled into Steve’s side on the couch, dozing lightly. After their initial anxiety had faded and Steve’s desperation calmed, being situated with Peggy in his lap had brought up certain other feelings that neither really wanted to ignore. Despite some kissing and very directed touching, they’d managed to keep to their word and avoid anything Howard might have deemed inappropriate.

Snuggling, Peggy thought, was absolutely appropriate given that she couldn’t remember the last time she had a warm, clean apartment with a comfortable bed and soft sofa. Pillowed on his chest, with Steve’s arm around her, she felt perfectly calm and safe.

His arm squeezed her gently. “I can feel you thinking.”

“Only good thoughts,” she murmured. “Is it possible to take a holiday from war?”

His laugh bounced her on his chest. “I guess you could call this that.”

“Seems it, right?” She didn’t open her eyes, just tried to burrow deeper into his side. “Easy to forget everything going on just for a few minutes.”

He hummed in agreement, tucking her as tight to him as he could, equally to keep them both on the sofa and to have her pressed close to him. He moaned as the phone on the table next to them rang, shrill and disturbing their peace.

He reached up, pulling the receiver down to his ear, knowing only a handful of people knew they were there. “Hello?”

“I’m sending Jarvis with the car to pick you up.” Howard’s voice was tense as he spoke over the tinny line. “We need to talk.”

Steve’s eyes were open immediately; Peggy’s head popped up as she felt his body tense. “Something wrong?”

Steve shifted them to sitting as he held the phone for Peggy to hear, too. “Nothing immediate, but we’ve managed to get a couple of clues, and I think we need to move sooner rather than later.”

“Howard, am I…” Peggy didn’t know what to ask, really, but she felt a knot start to burn tight in her stomach.

“No immediate danger. At least no more than usual.” Howard sighed over the line. “Jarvis will be there in ten, ok?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please stick with me on this. I won't be able to set up a regular posting schedule, but I WILL finish this. It's just going to take some time with some other writing projects happening at the same time and Real Life taking up more of my week.


	5. The Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard runs another, more dangerous experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, despite my realization (with the help of a fabulous anon) that once Bucky falls off the train there’s only a day to maybe a week of time that passes before Steve takes down the Valkyrie, I’ve decided that in this fic it’s way more time, and that’s super important to the plot. Bucky went down months ago, at least 6. Please just go with it. 
> 
> Also, you'll noticed the rating has changed to explicit. Couldn't be helped. if you’re not into adult content, well… believe me, you’ll know when to stop. (But if you’re already here, I’m pretty sure you don’t care about adult content ;) )
> 
> And, I REALLY need to know if some of your headcanons or ideas about what was happening were right... please tell me!!!

“We found about a third of a file from some other poor woman. Age, height, eye color don’t match Peg.” Howard chewed on his lip as he slid the file over to them. Steve, holding Peggy’s hand under the table, took the file and pushed it between them, flipping to the first page. “It’s an offshoot of something they’ve dubbed the Winter Soldier Project.” Steve eyes popped up in interest, but Howard just shook his head. “We haven’t found much else on that except the name and it involves a single male subject. At least for now.”

“Give us the short version,” Peggy said smartly, pulling her eyes away from the documents.

Howard sighed, wringing his hands together. “Well… it’s…” He started and stopped, looking anywhere but them.

Steve couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. “It’s that bad?”

Howard slumped back. “It’s not good.”

In her usual fashion, Peggy was still the most pragmatic in the room. “Then, out with it.”

“The uh, one page has a name on it: Project Anchor.” He sat tall again and pulled the file from them, looking for the right translated pages. “I don’t know how this works, so don’t ask. We’re missing massive amounts of data. And to be honest, I’m really only guessing at a lot of it.”

“Howard…” Steve prompted, forcing the man to look up at him.

He swallowed, finally looking his friends in the eyes. “It seems their Winter Soldier Project is akin to our Project Rebirth. Project Anchor was their way to… to keep their man under control.”

Peggy eyed him warily, “Keep the _man_ under control? Then why experiment specifically on women?”

Howard rubbed his face, clearing his throat. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and looked Peggy in the eyes. “Because the woman was what was going to _keep_ him under control. The anchor. They were trying to pair bond their subject to a woman. Create false love, or need, and then use her as collateral.”

Steve looked over at Peggy, taking her hand and squeezing tightly. “Give him a reason to stay in line.”

Howard nodded. “Exactly.” He scratched his head then laid three pages out before them, pointing. “This page refers to some kind of injection derived from their variant of the serum. Our linguistics guy says he thinks they’ve created some of these terms, because there aren’t clear translations. Best he can translate and I can tease out it works like some kind of bacteria or virus, bonding itself to cells through the subject’s body- specifically on the nervous system- which allows it to act as an irritant.” He shifted to the next page. “This talks about a two part process, but we haven’t been able to find anything about the second part, or even if they were able to get to it.” He pointed at the third page, eyes on Peggy. “This page describes the same kinds of pain you’re talking about, Peggy, but just the pain part. I don’t think they ever introduced their subject to their male counterpart, so she only ever felt pain.”

Despite Steve holding her hand, Howard could see Peggy’s anxiety ratchet up, her breathing get shallow as her heart rate started to go up with fear. “What happened to her, Howard?”

He stroked his mustache, trying to avoid saying, but he knew they’d read it for themselves. He gathered the papers and shuffled them together, slipping them back into the folder. “She died.” He coughed, folding his hands. “Supposedly they were going to do an autopsy, but we don’t have that page.”

“Well, what do you have?” Steve asked, his tone dark and eyes starting to narrow. “You’ve got to give us something to work with here, Howard!”

“You think I’m not trying to?” Howard shot back sharply. “If Erskine were still here we’d have a hope, _a hope_ , of really understanding what’s going on. The cellular biology was all him. I’ve got a handle on it, but there is so much that I don’t know…”

“Well, you should!” Steve pounded his fist on the table. “We need more than this!”

“Steve!” Peggy, took her other hand, laying it on his shoulder, “he’s doing his best.”

Steve groused, eyes on Howard. “Well, it’s not good enough.”

“I’ve got that,” Howard said strongly, chin set as he pointed at Steve. Steve, still incensed, didn’t budge, but Peggy turned, interested. “You’re not like this, Steve. You’ve never raised your voice at anyone as long as I’ve known you unless they were Hydra and on the wrong side of your shield.” Howard shook his head and pulled out the paper from his pocket. “I haven’t shown anyone this.”

Peggy and Steve read the two and a half sentences; Peggy gripping Steve’s hand tighter. “Breeding?”

“They had to have more than that one woman and you, Peg. There had to be so much more research somewhere that got them to this point. I’m looking, and I can’t find it, but I know it. They’ve been developing and testing this for far too long for us to not notice.” He sighed. “Whatever’s in your body reacted to the serum in Steve. Maybe it was when you touched, or it had to be a body fluid transfer when you kissed or something to that effect. I don’t know yet, but it’s in you, too, Steve.” Howard looked sadly at his friend. “It apparently wasn’t enough to make the woman be in lust or love, to tug on this poor guy’s heartstrings ‘cause she was in jeopardy, they’re altering the male counterpart, too, to feel hyper aggressive and hyper protective.”

“Like animals in heat,” Peggy mused out loud, disturbed. Her chin wavered as she pieced it together. “They give their soldier a mate that he cares about, loves even, and then threatens her with pain and even death if he’s gone too long, all the while hyping up his system so…”

“So that he’ll do anything to guarantee her safety.” Steve hung his head, unable to look at Howard. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Howard said softly. “I think that’s the understatement of the year.”

Steve hung his head, running his free hand through his hair. “So, what do we do?”

Howard only frowned at them.

~*~

* * *

The small base dorm room meant for visiting ranking officials wasn’t the worst place she’d ever been, but the fact that she knew Steve was on the other side of the wall and they weren’t going to be allowed to see one another until she was writhing in pain was absolutely weighing on her mind.

She knew it was their only course of action. It didn’t mean she had to like it. She sat on the bed, thinking she should be happy that Howard at least had a lead as to what was going on, but it left her hollow. The _what_ was bad enough, but the _why_ was swirling in her brain.

They’d planned to introduce her to a man she didn’t know and bond her to him forever by rage and pain.

And potentially children they planned on weaponizing.

She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that Steve had managed to touch her first.

~*~

* * *

It had only been an hour, but Steve was pacing like a caged tiger in the room next to Peggy’s.

He knew, deep down, Howard was right. He knew he hadn’t been behaving rationally when it came to Peggy since he’d brought her back. He should have made her go see Howard, shouldn’t have allowed her to hide for as long as she did.

But now, he could see it.

He could think back and realize there was more at work than just the love and care that had building withing him from the moment he met her. The drive, the desire to _keep her safe_ reverberated in the back of his skull, fighting with the rational part of him. It felt like an animal was trying to claw its way out of himself.

He had to force himself to not pounce on the nurse who knocked on his door and came in with a smile, tasked with taking his vitals and drawing blood.

~*~

* * *

Four hours in, Howard stared at her as the nurse drew her blood. “It would be more helpful if we could take samples from you every hour, just like Steve, but you won’t recover as fast.”

Peggy nodded, looking away as the nurse filled the vials. “If I have to feel like a pincushion for a bit, just make it worth it.”

He nodded, pulling out a small notebook from his pocket. “Give me a rundown of your symptoms.”

“Fingertips and toes are starting to get numb, arms are achy, and my chest feels heavy.” She rubbed her arm as the nurse stepped back, watching as the woman pulled out a thermometer and blood pressure cuff.

“Zero to ten?” he asked without looking up.

“One.” She held her mouth open and let the nurse slide the thermometer in, taking around it. “Took much longer to start to come on this time. Usually, my fingers start to tingle as soon as I leave him.”

Howard's eyebrows raised. “Interesting.”

~*~

* * *

Six hours and counting, and he didn’t want to eat. Didn’t feel hungry. Couldn’t concentrate. All he kept thinking about was that Peggy was on the other side of the wall and he couldn’t do a damn thing to help her.

Howard had stopped asking how he felt when he came in every hour, on the hour, mostly because he didn’t need to. Steve couldn’t stop himself from ranting at the man, a man who was his friend, for keeping them apart.

Even though he _knew_ why they were doing it. Even though he _understood_ exactly why it was so important they had real, tangible data about what was happening in his and Peggy’s bodies so Howard could find some way to fix or counteract it.

The only thing Steve found he was able to do was pace, keep moving, and try to burn off the anger and anxiety building up in him.

~*~

* * *

At eight hours in she was a four, little shocks of lightning through her body, everything hypersensitive, muscles starting to feel tight and painful, head swimming and aching. It was all she could do to sit up and talk to Howard when they came in to check on her. Though they didn’t draw blood every time, they still had her spit in a vile, checked her pulse and blood pressure, checked her temperature.

If Howard was finding anything, he was being tight lipped.

Peggy wasn’t sure if the anxiety of the experiment was ratcheting everything up, or of the knowledge that Steve was just on the other side of the wall made her feel more on edge.

She knew what happened to her at a 5, and at a 6, and once she hit a seven she wasn’t sure how long she could go without walking through that door.

~*~

* * *

Howard locked Steve’s door at hour nine, though he knew it wouldn’t stop him if he was determined. He locked Peggy’s door at hour eleven as her pain started creeping up exponentially faster. She could only tell him so much as her mind unfocused quickly as they talked, distracted by the agony she was feeling. 

He could only run each test so fast, but the logs were filling up with data quickly. So quickly, he wasn’t going to have time to analyze it, but rather just keep running each test until he had all of it.

He had no idea what any of it meant yet.

~*~

* * *

Howard found her sitting on the floor, most of her clothes torn off until she was in just her slip, pressed against the wall.

“Peg?” he asked softly, shooing the nurse behind him back into the hallway.

“ _I’m right here,”_ he heard Steve’s voice through the wall, “ _I promise. I’m so close, Peg.”_

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she sobbed, the tears falling fast. “It hurts everywhere.”

“ _What are you at? How bad?”_

“Eight,” she muttered, letting her forehead fall against the wall. “It’s an eight, but I know what’s coming.”

Howard slipped back out, sure she’d known he was there, but unwilling to eavesdrop anymore.

~*~

* * *

“You have to let her get to a ten!” Howard shouted at Steve. He hated that the man could hear her moans from his room, hated that Steve was forced to let her wallow like this, experiment or not.

“I don’t _have_ _to_ anything!” Steve yelled, moving forward.

Howard stepped back. Even though he was reasonably certain Steve wouldn’t hurt him, he wasn’t used to this side of the man. Howard, for his part, still didn’t back down, it was one of his more pigheaded traits. “Well, if you want me to figure out what’s wrong with her, you _do_ have to.”

They heard Peggy moan through the wall, a pitiful, guttural sound. Howard had just come from there. Her eight was creeping up to a nine in record time.

Steve moved forward again, but this time Howard pressed himself up against the door, arms splayed out to try to keep Steve from leaving. “Just remember this, Steve: you go in there right now, we have to do this _again._ If you touch her before she gets to a ten, we have to do this to her _again._ Don’t make me do that. You know I don’t want to.”

Steve looked at him, eyes dark and angry, and paced away, growling in frustration.

“Just…” Howard took a deep breath, “Just try to hold it together for her, ok?” He opened the door, stopping halfway out. “Do it for her.”

~*~

* * *

Peggy couldn’t take it anymore. She’d tried to hold back, tried to stay quiet, but she couldn’t breathe when she buried her head into the pillow to muffle the cries. The pain had crept up on her fast, growing in a way she hadn’t experienced before. She couldn’t help the moans, had the let something try to get out with the screams.

She couldn’t come up with ideas and theories, not when her head was pounding like her skull was too small and her whole body ached with muscle pain and her joints felt like they were full of broken glass and there were electrical shocks everywhere through her.

“Tell me this is it, Peg,” Howard pleaded, kneeling at her bedside. “Just say _ten_. All you gotta say is _ten_ and I can let this be over…”

She moaned as the nurse drew a vile of blood. The nurse and Howard both jumped when they heard the first bang against the wall.

Steve.

“Peg, just say _ten._ Then I can let him in.” Another bang shook the painting off the wall, the glass shattering on the floor. “We’ll be out of here and you two do whatever you need to do to make this right, ok?” Another crash, this time accompanied by the sound of the plaster cracking. “Just say _ten_ , please?”

She curled into a ball on the bed, not reacting to the way the plaster was starting to chip or how Steve’s rhythm quickened as she writhed.

“Jesus,” Howard stood, rubbing his hands over his mouth. “I’m calling it. It’s a ten. She can’t even talk.”

The nurse was about to ask him to help her take Peggy’s blood pressure when the wall across from them boomed, a large crack running down the middle.

He grabbed her arm, pulling swiftly. “Nope. Out. You don’t want to be here for this.”

~*~

* * *

  
  


He didn’t know what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop.

There was a part of him that said _the door is right there_ but there was another part of him, a bigger part of him, that _needed_ to get to Peggy and he knew that she was just on the other side of that wall.

He’d listened, powerless, as she cried out for hours, as she tried to bear the pain herself when he was _so close_.

He’d sat on the floor, talking to her through the plaster until she couldn’t string sentences together anymore. He stayed there, feeling just a little bit closer to her, even when he’d heard Howard and the nurse lift her back into the bed.

He’d stood, faced the wall, and there was only one choice: through. So he’d punched it. And again, and again. It felt good to punch it, like there was something he was doing, something he could do, to make this better.

But punching wasn’t enough. It chipped the plaster and made a small hole, but he wasn’t going to get through the wall just by punching. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and fell against it, shoulder first.

He didn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything, but smiled to himself when the plaster on his side started falling away, the wall bowed out. He pulled the chunks of plaster down, breathing heavy as he knew his mission was almost over. He was almost there. He took two steps back, and ran.

~*~

* * *

Steve crashed into Peggy’s room just as the door closed behind Howard. He skidded to a halt, plaster dust on him, broken glass and wall at his feet.

Peggy looked up from the bed, another cry falling from her lips as she curled in on herself.

He pulled at the collar of his t-shirt, ripping it off as he took two steps to the bed, falling to his knees and crawling up her body. Steve wasn’t thinking, only reacting, as he ripped the slip from her skin, baring her fully to him. He dropped down, pressing his bare upper body to hers, the touch of skin-to-skin pulsing through them like warm water rushing over them. Her arms clamped around him, holding him to her as his face rooted against her neck, licking and kissing the skin. “I’m here,” he mumbled against her neck. “I’m here.”

She could only concentrate on breathing, the press of him against her washing over her, soothing and igniting her at the same time. Pain slowly ratcheted down and started to move to needing and wanting as he kissed and licked along her collar bone, his hips rutting against hers as she tried to wrap her thighs around him.

She pulled him down, his weight pressing her into the mattress giving her just the tiniest bit more relief. Her breath caught when his lips found hers, his tongue already insistent and tasing her, despite her lazy, uncoordinated attempts to kiss him back. Her body didn’t feel like hers anymore, it felt heavy and weighted and like she was fighting to come back to life.

“What do you need?” he asked, dragging his lips to her ear to suck on her earlobe. “Tell me.”

She didn’t know how to form words, couldn’t make her mouth do more than suck at the skin of his shoulder. She pulled him close, pushing her hands down over his back to his hips, clawing ineffectually at the waistband of his pants.

He knew what he wanted, knew what his body was screaming at him, what his body wanted him to take and how he wanted to do it, but he needed her to say it. Needed to know that despite everything that had happened to them, she wanted the same. He dragged his face back up, pulling away just inches to look at her.

Her eyes blinked open and her limbs tightened as he pulled away, the fear clear in her gaze that she thought he was trying to get away from her.

“Tell me,” he tried to whisper, tightening his embrace, but his voice was harsh and gruff.

Her chin wavered, the fear falling away as she tried to catch her breath. “You,” she finally breathed out. “All of you.”

His kiss was fierce, deep and demanding and she felt it set her heart beating harder. He pressed up on one elbow, pushing the other hand between them and fumbling with his belt and pants. She tried to help him, pushing with her feet as he pushed down with his one hand, his pants and boxers moving stiltedly down his legs at the same time.

His pants caught at his ankles, bunching around the boots he never took off. He moved to stand but Peggy held tight, moving more from muscle memory than from conscious thought as she flipped him over, body pressed tight to his.

She shook as she pressed up on her knees, hand reaching between them to wrap around his length, hot and hard in her palm. She watched him struggle to stay still under her, felt his hands flex and relax against her skin, the grip tightening only barely perceptibly. She moved slowly, eyes locked on his, as she lifted her hips and shifted him into position, bit her lip as she sank down on him and moaned.

She threw her head back when her hips met his, groaning at the tendrils of pleasure that finally, finally started moving through her, cooling spirals through every inch that neutralized the pain and sparked passion, true passion, that wasn’t dictated by a feeling or a sensation.

Peggy wanted to look, wanted to see Steve beneath her, but couldn’t seem to muster the energy to open her eyes, she couldn’t even quite make herself move as she wallowed in the sensation of the pain finally, finally leaving her body.

She could feel his hands at her hips, fingers tightening and loosening with each breath. She grabbed them, dragged them up her body until he was palming her breasts, gently squeezing under her own hands. She let her hands slide down his arms, landing at his shoulders by touch alone, her breath finally coming in slow, deep breaths instead of the shallow stilted gasps she could barely manage before from the pain.

Eyes still closed, she began to rock her hips against his, small movements that made him moan under her. Tiny, little changes in direction that made the pleasure spark through her system like fireworks. His fingers found her nipples, playing and teasing as her movements became bolder, as she started to find a rhythm. She took her hands and moved them back up to his, plastering his hands to her body moaning, “more,” under her breath a she moved her hands up and down his arms.

He moved his hand as she blinked open her eyes for the first time, looking down at him, lust glazing her eyes over. He pressed his palm up over her chest, around her neck and up to cradle her cheek. She turned her head into his hand, closing her eyes again as her hips gained speed, nuzzling into his hand and nipping at his thumb before sucking it deep in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. He moaned as her lips mimicked her hips movement.

“More,” she moaned again, this time frustration tinging her words.

Steve moved swiftly, gathering her in his arms rolling, despite the handicap of having both feet effectively tied together. Peggy moaned happily buried underneath him, nuzzling into his body and rubbing every inch against him, her hips rocking against his as she wound her legs around his hips. He could feel the feral haze starting to dissipate, the need and want purely his own. He hiked her legs up higher on his hips, slipping from her body. She frowned, moving to correct it when he held her still. “Just…wait.”

He waited until she’s stilled, then kicked one leg to the side ferociously, ripping his pants down the seam and freeing him from the restriction. He smiled won at her, wagging his eyebrows. She licked her lips, smiling up at him as he slid himself back home, flexing his hips deep within her.

She writhed under him as he began to move, clawing at his back to pull him closer. “Take me, Steve,” she whispered, holding on as his hips drove deeper into her. She moaned lewdly, the rumble in her chest from the noise spurring him on to press harder and faster as she buried her head is his neck, her hot breath pouring over him.

It could have been seconds, it could have been hours that they held one another, pressed tight as one body, moving and breathing and crying out together as he brought her higher and higher. As she moved one hand, finding that bundle of nerves that just couldn’t quite get touched at this angle. As he replaced her hand with his, causing her to arch off the bed with his touch. As she fell apart under him, her body tightening around him as she cried out, pushing him past his own edge of sanity until there was nothing left except them breathing heavy, a pile of spent, sweaty limbs.

He didn’t ask a number as he gathered her against him. He didn’t care about the shreds of fabric and heavy boots he still wore as he pulled the bedsheet over them.

He just wanted to sleep and to keep her safe, always.


	6. A Brief Moment of Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They share a brief moment of quiet as one experiment ends and they prepare for what comes next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short interlude. More action coming soon, this just made the most sense as a chapter.

Steve’s senses were assaulted from every angle as he woke: the soft feel of her flesh wrapped tight in is arms, the flowery scent of her hair, the taste of her skin still on his lips, the sounds of her soft snores as she slept, her long, dark eyelashes laying against her cheek.

Peggy.

All around him.

He took a slow, deep breath, taking in the moment. For all that had happened, all that they’d done, he’d never woken up with her in his arms quite like this, and despite the circumstances, he wanted to remember it. After a moment he gently shifted, untangling himself from her, content to let her sleep on. He sat on the side of the bed, head falling to his hands when he saw the torn pants still wrapped around his ankles and were held up by his boots.

He wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or proud of what they’d done, wasn’t sure if it had been driven by love or lust or science, and that made his stomach twist in knots.

What he did know was that he loved her and she loved him. For right now, that would have to be enough to get through whatever was coming at them. He bent slowly, trying not to shake the bed as he pulled off the boots and let the tattered remnants of the pants fall to the floor.

He looked around the room, the destruction doing nothing for the knot in his stomach. He only vaguely remembered pounding on the wall with his fist, couldn’t recall when or how he’d rammed through it, didn’t remember when, exactly he’d decided that doors were useless.

Steve wasn’t sure he could do anything about the hole while he was naked. He wasn’t sure what he could do at all, in fact. Peggy would likely sleep deeply for at least another hour or two, and it had already been hours since he lost track of the time, he could tell by how low the sun was in the sky through the crack in the curtains. He picked his way quietly over to the hole in the wall and cleared a path through the drywall and debris on the floor as soundlessly as he could. At the very least his room wasn’t filled with debris and broken glass, and the bedding was in much better shape.

He was staring at the bed, Peggy’s small figure cocooned in the scratchy white sheet, when he heard the faintest of noises outside.

“Cap?”

Steve padded to the door, barely cracking it open to preserve whatever modestly he had left. He was surprised to find Dum Dum on the other side.

“Howard sent me,” the man started with a shrug. “I think he’s a little intimidated after you broke through the wall.” He held up a box. “Boxed dinner. Better than K-rations, I swear.”

Steve leaned awkwardly, trying to keep the door in between them as he reached for the box, but he juggled it and had to step forward, revealing himself. “Sorry.” He slipped back behind the door.

Dum Dum shrugged, unaffected. “Ain’t like we haven’t shared a locker room.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “You guys need anything else? Howard said they planned on leaving you alone for tonight, just checking in tomorrow when he had more information.”

“Pants,” Steve replied quickly. “And actually… shit.” He ran his hand through his hair, his face reddening, the blush traveling down his chest. “We both need new clothes.”

Steve could see how hard Dugan worked to refrain from making a suggestive gesture or comment. For that, Steve was grateful. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll just knock and leave ‘em, ok?”

“Great, thanks.” Steve closed the door on his friend, not waiting for a goodbye when he already felt so awkward. He peeked into the box: sandwiches and fruit that would keep; he could let Peggy sleep a bit longer. He slipped to his room and set the box on the edge of the dresser, then pawed through the drawers, looking for anything that might be useful but finding only emptiness. 

It was bad enough so many people knew what was happening, leaving him feel exposed, but to be literally exposed as well was just a little more than he could bear at the moment. Despite that, he set to work cleaning his side of the hole in the wall, moving all the chunks of plaster to the other side, brushing aside the dust with his hands. He washed them quickly, and wished there had been more than just a hand towel in the bathroom. He looked at his perfect, still made bed and gently lifted the covers, pulling the blankets over at one side.

Steve picked his way back into Peggy’s room, watching how she slept softly in the wrinkled, rumpled blankets that were torn in places, the exposed mattress where the sheet had pulled away up at the headboard a testament to the ferocity of what had happened in there. 

He could do better.

Softly, quietly, he pulled the blanket away from her, baring her naked form to him. He would have liked to look his fill, and one day when this was all over he would, but for now he settled on scooping her gently into his arms and moving her through the hole in the wall to the crisp, pristine bed.

She made a noise in the back of her throat as he settled her in the new bed, confused and disturbed. She didn’t open her eyes, but wrapped her arms around his neck as he tried to move away. “Cold,” she mumbled, “stay.”

Steve kissed her cheek, but untangled her arms, anyway. “One minute,” he whispered, tucking her tight under the blankets. He watched her snuggle deeper until just her hair was sticking out and smiled to himself. As quietly as he could, he moved to the other end of the room, lifting the tall wardrobe from where it sat in the corner and using it to cover the massive hole in the wall.

When he stepped back, he could still see the cracks in the plaster radiating outward, but it was better than nothing. Even the illusion of propriety was welcome. He was on his way back to the bed when he heard the muted sounds of a knock on the other door. He hurried, poking his head out just in time to see Dugan starting to turn away from the next door over. Steve whispered his name loud enough to get his attention.

Dugan grabbed the bag he’d set at the door and trotted it over. “Dernier picked the lock on your footlocker, grabbed what we could.” He shrugged. “Couldn’t get into the ladies’ barracks, so we threw in some more of your clothes. They’ll be big, but better than nothing.”

Steve took the bag gratefully. “Thanks, we owe you.”

“You guys owe us nothing.” Dugan reached out, putting his hand on his shoulder, his face solemn. “You just let us know what else you need, ok?”

Steve nodded and shut the door, feeling at least a little better than he had before. He set the bag of clothes next to their food, and slipped into the bed.

Before he could even settle, Peggy had wrapped herself around him, head resting on his shoulder. He laughed lightly, snuggling her closer. “Miss me?”

“Always,” she mumbled against his skin without opening her eyes. She pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder before snuggling down with a contented sigh.

He closed his eyes, letting his hand gently trace over the skin of her shoulder, up and down in a soothing manner that had Peggy melting against him, the tension leaving her body as sleep tried to claim her again.

It was the way her thigh rubbed against his, the still semi-sticky friction as she tried to wrap her leg over his that made his eyes pop open, his mind racing. He had known what they’d done, even if the details were somewhat jumbled and fuzzy in his memory, but until this moment he hadn’t really thought about what _exactly_ they had done. “Peggy?” His voice was soft and concerned. She hummed against him, her leg still sliding against his, mocking him.

“We didn’t… what if…”

Her hand slid across his chest, hugging him. “We should be fine.”

“But—”

Her voice was thick with sleep, somewhere between amused and exasperated. “You think I knew this was going to happen and didn’t at least think about the possibility that we’d lose control like that?” She blinked her eyes open, pressing up on her elbow to look at him. Her exasperation left her when she saw him floundering, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find a response. “You still don’t know anything about women, do you?” She smiled, pressing a peck to his cheek before snuggling back down, yawning heavily. “I’ll explain it to you later.”

His hand on her shoulder started moving again, and he couldn’t help but cover her hand that was pressed over his heart with his own. He hadn’t thought, as usual, and there she was, thinking for the both of them. He couldn’t sleep and was wide awake as she succumbed to her exhaustion in his arms.

He let his mind wander and drift as he did most nights, laying alone, thinking of her. Usually, he thought of the dates he’d take her on after the war was over, of the places in Brooklyn he wanted to show her and how he really, really wanted to take her to a baseball game because he thought she’d enjoy it and because he couldn’t get the image of her sitting in the stands in a ballcap with her bright red lips, smiling and laughing next to him in the sunshine, out of his head.

Tonight, he couldn’t get the idea of little cape houses and swing sets in the back yard out of his mind. He’d never really thought about a family before, never had pictured that as a part of his future for so, so many reasons. He couldn’t quite decide what their kids might look like, or if they’d be strong or frail, but he knew they’d be pigheaded and rambunctious just like the both of them. If she even wanted children. They hadn’t crossed that little bridge yet.

Hell, he still hadn’t taken her out on a proper date. He hadn’t even asked her to really be his girl. They’d fallen into a relationship; it had simply happened as if it had always been. He wasn’t sure if he was happy it had been that easy or sad that he’d skipped those little milestones with her. War, it seemed, made those little moments insignificant when either of them could die at any moment.

In the end, it didn’t much matter. He’d give anything to live the rest of his life with her like they were now: wrapped around one another and content.

He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that happened.

~*~

* * *

“Well?” Phillips barked, making his way into Howard’s lab.

Howard had been up since yesterday, almost 36 hours, going through every test he’d planned, some he hadn’t, and trying to chart the data. He didn’t trust even his most trusted lab aids with this. He ran a hand through his har, falling back. “Well, for the first time ever, I wish I knew more about women.”

Phillips eyebrows shot to his hairline. “You’re telling me there’s something about women you don’t know?”

Howard made an exasperated face at him, knowing full well he was walking a thin line. “Hormones. It’s still an area of research where we know very little. Women’s are very different from men’s.”

Phillips tossed his hat on the table and sat across from him on a stool. “What? You’re telling me that Hydra overloaded those two like some horny teenagers with hormones?” He huffed out a laugh. “I guess that’s one way to keep people from fighting in a war.”

Howard laughed, but shook his head. “No, no. It’s more insidious than that. They changed how they’re producing the hormones. I don’t… I don’t have a clear picture of it- and quite frankly I can’t even begin to tell if it’s working how Hydra intended or if it’s gone all wrong.”

Phillips leaned his elbows on his thighs, face grim. “You know we need those two back in the field. What do you need to make that happen?”

He shrugged, blowing a heavy, slow breath out as he looked across the table. “There’s a doctor in California, he’s the leading expert on hormones. I’d like to reach out.”

“Done. Get a non-disclosure signed, share whatever you need to.” Phillips picked up his hat, ready to move out, but Howard stopped him by standing in his way. “You got something else?”

Howard nodded, “I think you should pull all your female operatives.”

Phillips didn’t bat an eye. “That’s a very big ask, Stark.”

“We got lucky that they found Peggy so quickly in the first place and that the first person who touched her was Steve.” He gestured out to his desk. “Until we know more about this, I can’t promise that if they manage to get another one of ours we’ll be able to help them. Hell, right now the only thing that’s actually helping Peggy is Steve, and we can’t replicate that.”

“Understood,” Phillips nodded, his eyes darkening. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

Howard watched the man leave, then turned back to his desk, unwilling to sleep but unsure of where to go next.

~*~

* * *

Peggy sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, shrugging on the SSR t-shirt Steve tossed her. “So, is it possible? Yes. Likely? No.”

He sat heavily in his boxers on the edge of the bed, pulling the sandwiches out of their box. “And you just… figured that out?”

She chuckled, smiling brightly at him. “I can’t take all the credit. I’m benefiting from hundreds of years of women working desperately to try to figure out how to get pregnant and how to avoid pregnancy.” She took the sandwich he offered her, pulling open the waxed paper. “Though lots of people seem to think a woman’s only use is to bear children.”

She’d meant it in a lighthearted fashion. They’d talked often about how Peggy was held back by the fact that she was a woman, and that she’d likely have her own commission if she’d been a man. Steve, however, was suddenly dour, eyes downturned to look at his own sandwich.

He spoke after a moment, eyes somewhere between sad and lost in memory. “I didn’t even think of it, you know? I just… I was going nuts at the idea of you right through there,” he gestured at the wardrobe, bits of lettuce falling from his sandwich, “in so much pain. So close but so far.” He shook his head, looking down. “I didn’t even think about it.”

Peggy set her sandwich down, leaning over and pressing her hand to his shoulder. “You weren’t—”

“Do you want kids?” he interrupted her, eyebrows knit together and intense. “We never…” His voice fell away, chin set tight as he closed his mouth.

She licked her lips, pausing and buying time. Steve had never interrupted her before, and she wasn’t sure if it was the intensity of the feelings coursing through him that she could feel in the tenseness of his body under her hand, or if it was whatever Hydra had done to them. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, holding his gaze. She swallowed hard. “It always just seemed a foregone conclusion when I was young- get married, have children. Then I found this job that I love and if I want to keep doing it- well, I don’t think I can dodge bullets as effectively if I’m the size of a hippo.” She smiled, but Steve didn’t reciprocate. Her smile faltered, replaced with sincerity. “I can’t say that the idea of motherhood makes me very excited at this very moment, but I can’t say I’d be opposed, either. Especially if it were yours.”

He looked at her, eyes trying to convey something he couldn’t find the right way to express. “What if we… and then…” he shook his head, unable to get the words out. Instead, he tossed his sandwich back in the box next to him and reached out, pulling her into his lap and holding on tight.

Peggy shifted in his arms, letting her knees fall on either side of his hips so she could hold him close, her own sandwich a mess across the bed, forgotten. The intensity of his hug, the way he held her tight and buried his face against her chest, brought tears to her eyes. She let her hand comb through his hair and kissed the crown of his head. “Oh, my darling…” she whispered, holding him tight, “what have they done to us both?”

He looked up at her, brown eyes wide and full of hurt, and she framed his face with her hands, brushing his hair back. Peggy leaned down, pressing her lips to his, her eyes fluttering closed as she kissed him softly.

It was soft and comforting, a promise that they weren’t alone as long as they had one another.

She pulled away, resting her forehead on his. “I very seriously doubt that I could be pregnant, but if I am, we’ll deal with that the same way we’re dealing with this: together.”

“None of this is fair,” he whispered, his emotional pain plain on his face.

She shook her head against his before sliding to press their cheeks together. “No, it isn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it goes without saying that all the "science" involved in sci-fi science and completely made-up. Just relax and enjoy. 
> 
> But some REAL stuff... Peggy describes the Rhythm or Calendar method of birth control which can be fairly reliable and accurate if tracked correctly. I'm not advocating for or against, but from what I've read it was used fairly often during the time period and served my narrative purposes. (Plus. I find it hilarious to think of Peggy, half naked, trying to explain how that works to Steve.) I couldn't find a realistic way of working in another method of time period correct birth control, and Peggy absolutely strikes me as the kind of woman who is thinking ahead.


	7. We Have a Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taken so long to get this out. RL has to come first, and it has been busy and stressful leaving me little time to write. Story will still be continued AND finished, just not on a regular timeline, though I will TRY for a new chapter every weekend going forward.

“We have a plan,” Howard said, sitting across from them in his lab the next morning.

“We?” Peggy asked, a single eyebrow raised. She grasped Steve’s hand tight, both excited and concerned.

Howard frowned. “I had to reach out to a researcher in California. It may be hard for me to admit,” he stood, rounding the table and shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against it, “but I’m out of my depth.”

Peggy dropped her head, closing her eyes tight. “Yes, well, I’m sure we’re quite the medical oddity.”

Howard dipped, waiting to catch her eyes before he spoke. “If you think, for one second, that I’m taking any of this lightly, Peg…”

“No. I—” She took a deep breath, looking at him, brown eyes full of sadness. “It’s just quite the turn for a spy to feel so exposed. I feel like everyone on this base knows all my business now.”

“Not from me, they don’t,” Howard replied, stern. “And I told my colleague in California only what he needed to know, no more.”

Howard watched her square her shoulders, her ability to compartmentalize and focus her energies at will always somehow so astounding to him. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Synthetic hormone injections.” Howard pulled his hands out of his pockets, moving them around frantically as he explained. “Somehow, they’ve been able to force your bodies to regulate your hormone levels through touch, specifically touching each other. I’m not even sure if this is what they intended to do, or if it’s just a side effect, but touching,” he gestured to their clasped hands, “keeps them on an even keel.”

Howard shifted, sitting on the table. “Once you stop touching, your bodies loses the ability to regulate. Now- we had some of the samples of Peg’s from while Steve was away, and I compared them to what we took yesterday and today- and I think…” he shook his head, sliding his hands across an invisible timeline in front of him. “What we actually know is when you guys were rationing how much you touched, it came on quicker, but built up slower.” He made a gentle slope in the air, their eyes following. “But after you shacked up and were touching all the time, it took a lot longer to come on, but the pain increased at an exponential rate.” His hands bounced through the air, trying to show them the competing graphs from his mind.

“And that means…?” Steve led, hoping for more answers.

Howard shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know if this is how they intended it to work of if this is a side effect. Phillips has half the battalion out now looking for more small bases we’ve ignored hoping they’ll have something, and the other half pawing through old boxes of Hydra contraband for anything referencing Anchor or Winter Soldier.”

“So, when do we start?” Peggy squared her shoulders, ready to move forward.

Howard moved back to his chair, sitting heavily. “As long as the lines hold, we’ll have a batch of hormones here tomorrow.”

Steve’s shoulders fell at the thought of having to wait much longer for a solution. “And until then?”

The scientist shrugged. “You guys know what happens. You touch a lot, no pain for a while but it goes up quick. Not a lot, a little pain but longer until it gets bad.” He looked back and forth between them. “You pick. Six of one, half dozen of the other. At this point I don’t have any evidence that one approach is better.”

~*~

* * *

He sat apart from her in the car on the way back to the apartment, his hand close, but not touching in the backseat. They sat in silence for the first few minutes, Howard’s driver very carefully indifferent towards them.

“I’m starting to get used to the apartment,” Peggy muttered, her eyes on the military barracks they were passing through the window. “It’ll be a shame when we have to go back to cots and tents.”

He could feel her vibrating next to him, full of emotions and energy, concerns and questions, none of which either of them wanted to voice in front of a stranger. “There will be a lot of difficult things about going back.” She kept her head turned, not looking at him as he continued. “What do you think about Howard’s… options?”

She found his eyes in the refection in the glass, but didn’t say anything. Peggy simply crept her hand to the side, finding his fingers and holding tight.

Steve felt like he could breathe again.

The thought of holding back, of trying to avoid touching her seemed like a monumental task. He tried to keep his fingers still as the car trudged on, moving through bombed out husks of neighborhood and back through apartment buildings that had fared better. He tried to build a plan of keeping things to small, little touches, to holding hands and pecks good night with walls of pillows built up between them.

It would be so much better, in the long run, if she could fare for longer periods of time without him.

And yet he hated the idea of being so close yet so far. Despite the circumstances, despite the pain she felt and the scrutiny they were under, their quiet morning, lounging naked together and indulging in soft touches, had been a glimpse into paradise. Their days before that, in the apartment, had been a peek into the future he so desperately wanted once the war was over.

He’d never meant to let it go that far, to let Hydra take that last little bit of private intimacy away from them. He hadn’t been in control, though, and admitting that was more frightening than he thought. He was feeling less and less in control as the days passed. The more Peggy got of him the better she was, but the more he was around her, the worse off he was. She was like a drug: the more he had, the more he wanted and there didn’t seem to be any satiating his hunger.

Steve wanted to believe that, based on everything they’d already been, the desire between them was real, that it was only enhanced by the hormones, only morphed and twisted by the chemicals coursing through their bodies. He wanted to believe that eventually all of the hand holding and stolen kisses would have led to the same, blistering desire he was feeling now, if only farther in the future. Knowing her, seeing her, tasting her, had left an indelible mark on the slowly simmering desire he’d felt. He wasn’t sure how he was going to avoid touching her as casually as they had been before, how he was going to avoid pressing close to her in the kitchen or cuddling up with her at night in bed, without making her feel like he was upset with her or avoiding her.

He almost jumped out of his skin when her fingers started stroking over his, her hand pulling away and stroking at his wrist before it fell heavily on his thigh, all the while her eyes still looking out to the horizon.

~*~

* * *

She hadn’t meant to let it go that far. They’d never lost their heads like that. If she had thought it would have been a true possibility, she’d have prepared better.

She wasn’t upset, precisely, but rather disappointed that a moment she’d tucked away and looked forward to had been squandered so uselessly.

She could barely even remember it. It was a jumble of legs and arms and bodies and pain and passion. 

She wanted to know what his face looked like when he pushed into her the first time, to memorize the way it felt, to know what his eyes looked like when he lost control, and how he sounded, spent and lying next to her.

But she couldn’t remember, and they’d never have this for the first time again.

It seemed so silly to her, as she looked out at the passing houses, to put such big meaning on such a little barrier. They’d come so close so many times and she knew him so intimately. She knew how he breathed when he was close to losing control, what his lips felt like on her nipples, how his hands palmed her ass and squeezed when he was spurring her on, what his stubble felt like along her inner thigh… For over a month they’d learned each other in the most intimate of ways and yet, she held this one little thing so high…

She just wanted one thing that wasn’t touched by this war. One.

She tried to focus. She hadn’t decided, not really, about how she wanted to proceed when they got back to the apartment. The idea of staying away from him until she started to feel the tingling seemed insane to her, but she feared dependence. She feared they’d touch so much, drunk on each other’s skin, that eventually she wouldn’t be able to exist away from him. 

Her body hummed, vibrating on the same frequency as his, so aware of how stiff and tired and frustrated he was, as well.

They were all each other had in this.

Peggy moved her hand to his thigh, never turning her face, keeping quiet for the benefit of the driver.

She’d made her decision.

~*~

* * *

Before the door to the apartment was even closed, he had her pushed up against it, his lips running down her neck, leg hitched up over his hip.

“Tell me to stop, Peg,” he murmured, kissing across the exposed skin at her collar bone.

“I won’t.” She ran her fingers through his hair, holding him tight to her. “I can’t.”

He pulled away, breathless, looking into her eyes. “This is a bad idea.” He shook his head, letting his forehead gently fall to hers. “You gotta be able to exist without me. What if--”

She moved her hand fast, covering his lips. “Don’t even,” she reprimanded harshly. The thought of them being separated, permanently because of the war or any other reason, was not something she wanted to contemplate right now.

He sighed, eyes closed tight as he pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Peg…”

“Tomorrow, Howard is going to pump us full of god knows what in the hopes that _something_ might help. But we don’t know. We don’t know if it’ll make it worse or better. If it will help or hurt or do nothing.” She shifted, her leg falling from his hip as she cradled his face in her hands, waiting for him to look at her. Her voice fell to a tremulous whisper. “What if, after tomorrow, I can’t touch you without it hurting?” 

His heart seemed to stop at that one possibility, a thought that had never crossed his mind. He’d been so focused on the hell she was enduring now that he hadn’t imagined there could be others. Peggy had. She’d probably imagined more tortures than he could ever fathom.

Peggy moved her hand to smooth over his furrowed brow. “I’m not waiting and hoping, Steve.” She kissed him, full and alive and passionate, sliding her arms over his shoulders and down his back. “I’m enjoying what we have, right here, right now.”

In one smooth move he grasped her under her thighs and lifted her off her feet, her hands holding his shoulders tight as he carried her over to the couch, gently sitting on the edge with her in his lap. She shifted to her knees as he slid back, keeping her body close to his, a smile widening across her face.

~*~

* * *

She was half asleep in his arms, her naked body still tangled in the sheets around them. It hadn’t taken them long to make their way from the couch to the bedroom, availing themselves of more than one of the condoms she’d swiped from the supply closet while they were on base along the way.

She wondered if Martins would miss them, or if he was used to GIs sneaking into the supply closet and messing up his inventory. Peggy suspected the latter, but giggled to herself, imagining the man trying to blabber his way through a briefing detailing the number of condoms missing and why they were so important to keep gun muzzles dry in the field.

Steve’s arms wrapped tighter around her. “Something amusing?”

Peggy ran her hand over his chest. “Just thinking of Martins discovering that I managed to shove a whole case of condoms in my purse.” She felt him rumble beneath her. “How often do you think he has that problem?”

“A case?” Steve sighed happily, kissing her head. “Rarely. If the guys who sneak in manage more than a handful they start trading them around like cigarettes.”

“So that happens a lot, then?” Peggy shifted, leaning up on her elbow.

Steve blinked his eyes open, looking at her, He lifted his hand to run his fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “We get issued a certain amount per month for all kinds of uses. Guys generally don’t want Phillips to know if they’re using them for non-waterproofing reasons.”

Peggy leaned down, gently letting her lips fall to his in a soft kiss. “Think we have enough, Captain?”

Steve chased her lips as she pulled away, smiling. He shifted, leaning over the edge of the bed to dramatically survey the dozens of little silver packets that were strewn across the floor. He didn’t think he’d ever get the image of her, standing only in her panties and garters, pulling handful upon handful of condoms out of her purse, smile shining bright and eyes so full of desire it looked like she wanted to eat him alive. “Nope,” He laughed, flopping back on the bed and pulling her close to him. “I’d say we could use a few more.”

Peggy shook her head, smacking him gently. “Then you’ll be doing the sneaking into the supply closet next time.” She sat up, looking around them and finally settled on pulling on Steve’s undershirt before slipping out of bed. She picked up Steve’s boxers and tossed them to him before collecting the packets strewn on the floor. “I’m famished. Lunch?”

Steve caught his boxers mid-air, shimmying into them under the blanket. “I do seem to have worked up an appetite.” He wagged his eyebrows at her as she set the condoms in a pile on the side table.

She just shook her head, grabbing her panties and slipping them on, enjoying the lighthearted flirting. “You’re insatiable.”

She held back a squeal as Steve snuck behind her, turning her quickly and playfully backing her against the wall. “One hundred percent your fault that I can’t keep my hands off of you.” He’d meant it as a compliment, but they both knew that the words had been wrong the second they came out of his mouth. “Peg- no. I meant that—”

Her smile was soft, not forced but not full blown. “I know.” She bit her lip and looked away, her hands sliding around his waist to pull him close. She took a slow, shuddering breath as he wrapped his arms around her. “One day, you’ll be able to say that to me simply because you find me unbelievably attractive, not because my very life might depend on it.”

He leaned back, nudging her nose gently with his until she looked at him. “I do, actually, find you unbelievably attractive,” he whispered gently.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his sincerity, at how hard he had been trying just for her. “Flatterer,” she huffed lightheartedly, trying to find the little bubble of happiness they’d just been inhabiting before his poor choice of words. She pulled back, taking his hands in hers. “Come on, I’m hungry and of the two of us, you’re the far better cook.”

Steve had joked with her though much of lunch that he was sure she could warm up a can of soup about as well as he could, but she swore up and down she’d manage to burn it somehow. She claimed dish duty, hands carefully cleaning out the bowls and pans as Steve molded himself to her back, his hands resting on her hips, slipping under the cotton of his shirt, fingers dancing playfully at the edge of her underwear. It was nice to have him so close, so gentle with her.

Peggy smiled, flicking water over her shoulder at him playfully as she cleaned the last dish. “Eager?”

He chuckled, pressing closer to her so she could feel just how eager he was. “Maybe.” He kissed her neck, following along the curve of it as she tipped her head to allow him more access. “Just taking advantage of our time here together.”

She set the last dish aside and turned in his arms, her damp hands sliding over his shoulders. “Well?” she asked, teasing and expectant.

He lifted her swiftly onto the counter next to the sink and kissed her in earnest.

~*~

* * *

Peggy sat in bed, unashamed of her nudity as she pulled her brush gently through her hair, eye on the mirror across from her. “I’ll have to get up early tomorrow,” she muttered, both hands working out a tangle. “If I walk in with my hair looking like this there won’t be a single question as to how we’ve been spending our time. I look absolutely debauched.”

Steve, laying behind her, smiled, meeting her eyes in the mirror as he let a finger glide over her hip where the sheet pooled around her legs. “I think you look gorgeous.”

Peggy bit her lip as she looked over her shoulder at him. There was something far more intimate about how they were right here, right now, than they had been this whole time. Sharing a bed, chatting as she brushed her hair, naked but for the single sheet laying over their hips… she wouldn’t quite call it domestic, but she didn’t have another word for the rightness of it, couldn’t quite voice how it made her feel inside to see his bright blue eyes lock onto hers and know for sure that he loved her and she loved him. It made her feel like a giant, like a superhero, and in this little room, as night fell with just the warm light from the bedside lamp on them, she felt like nothing could touch them.

She could pretend tomorrow wasn’t happening, that there was nothing wrong with her, that there wasn’t a war on, and that it could be like this forever.

She turned back to the mirror, focused on getting the tangles out of her hair. “This is your fault, you know.”

Steve’s finger gently slid over her hip and to the other, teasing. He kissed the dimple in her low back. “I take full responsibility.”

“First the counter… then on the couch…” she took a deep breath and shook her head, putting her brush down on the bedside table. “then back in here again after dinner. It’s a wonder I’m not bruised and battered.” She rolled her eyes when Steve’s brows knit together, his teasing touch turning more concerned and exploratory. “I’m teasing!” She sighed, turning and laying against him. She pecked him on the cheek. “Only real casualty was my elbow when we took that tumble off the couch.”

Steve lifted her arm, examined it, and though he didn’t see a black and blue forming, he kissed it gently anyway. He tucked her arm tight to his chest and leaned up, kissing her forehead. “Alarm is already set for bright and early.” He tipped his head towards the light, asking if she wanted him to shut it off. “Ready?”

Peggy nodded, but she could feel the lump forming in her throat, could feel the enormity of how going to sleep brought her so much closer to tomorrow’s unknowns. Steve reached over, flipping off the light and plunging them into darkness before turning back to her and tucking her tight to his side. “G’night, Peg,” he whispered after a quiet moment, squeezing her tight.

She turned her head, pressing a kiss to his chest, knowing she wouldn’t get a moment’s rest tonight. “Goodnight, my darling.”


	8. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for everyone who has been posting their theories about what will happen. It's always been planned this way since I first started writing, so I hope you enjoy.

She held his hand out the door, and in the backseat as they drove back to the base. He didn’t acknowledge the tremor in her hand out loud, or that fact that while they both knew that Howard wouldn’t purposely hurt them, everything about the situation was dangerous and unknown.

She only let go when they arrived at the base, slipping the mask of propriety and duty back on, her worried eyes hiding behind a false confidence he could see right through.

~*~

* * *

The very first thing she did when they got back to apartment was run for the bathroom, retching sounds filtering all the way back to Steve at the front door. He moved slowly, taking his time to get to her and allow her some privacy. The procedure itself had been quick and nearly painless: two shots each, right in the upper arm, though Steve’s needles were decidedly larger than the ones they used on Peggy. It had taken them longer to get there and back in the car.

Steve grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cool water as he slipped next to her in the bathroom, handing it to Peggy as he crouched down. “Guess he wasn’t lying about the side effects, huh?”

She nodded, wiping at her mouth and then pillowing her head on her arm, still kneeling at the toilet. “The headache’s started, too.”

He gently ran a hand over her back. “What can I do?”

“I think I’ll stay here for the moment… stomach’s not all that settled yet.”

He rubbed her back gently. “Tea?”

“That would be lovely,” she murmured, her face pinching as she started to feel the waves of nausea again.

Steve let her be, knowing there was little he could do, and set about making her tea. Howard had listed a dozen likely side effects and a few rare ones they were supposed to be aware of that could last hours or days. Howard wasn’t sure how long the doses would last, but he’d given Steve four times more than Peggy and said to keep their fingers crossed and try to avoid excessive touching.

Steve wasn’t going to avoid comforting Peggy while she was crouched over the toilet, but a tiny peck and some gentle touches were hardly the same level of skin to skin contact they’d indulged in recently. He poured the hot water over the tealeaves and waited, watching the water darken. The list of side effects we daunting, but so far, Steve felt fine.

Fine, he thought, was putting it lightly. He felt the clearest he had in days, maybe even months. He opened the kitchen window, taking in the late morning sun and took a deep breath, the light air mixing with the soft scent of Peggy’s tea. He felt awake. Free.

This was working.

The desire he felt for her was just that: desire. It wasn’t the overwhelming lust or the desperate need for her any longer, just the low simmering love he’d felt before all of this started, ready to ignite with a touch or a kiss.

He turned, meeting her eyes as she joined him, staying by the doorway. Her color looked better already, though she had a glassy look still in her eyes. “Better?” he asked.

“Seems, for the mo’ at least.” She took a slow, deep breath in and out. “Headache isn’t too bad,” she grabbed the mug from the counter and took a slow sip, “It’s bearable. You?”

He didn’t want to flaunt his newfound revelations, not when she seemed to be still struggling. “Feeling ok so far.” He shrugged, wanting to reach out. Their directive to not touch made things awkward and stilted.

“I think I’ll take a lie in, just for a bit.” Peggy clutched her mug.

“Yeah,” he waved his hand, nodding over and over again, feeling silly and stupid and suddenly like he was 98 pounds all over again. “Yeah, just… just call if you need me.”

Her lips stayed pressed together when she smiled. Her nod was just as awkward as his, eyes retreating to her tea as she turned.

~*~

* * *

He sat on the couch, sketching her through the door to the bedroom. She’d left it open a crack, and he’d quietly widened it when he went to check on her. From his spot curled into the side of the sofa he had a perfect view of her face, overtaken by sleep, her curls falling and lips parted just slightly.

He hoped the vomiting and the headache and the fatigue meant it was working. It was hard not to feel trapped and used, he thought, as he added shading to her cheek. Despite the positive, the time and the touches, and the very clear understanding that they were in love, it felt wrong and broken to be forced together like this.

He wanted them to be living happily in a little apartment or small house in the suburbs because the war was over and they wanted to be there, not because they had to be together even if they did love one another.

The difference was small, but it mattered.

He wished he had a set of pastels to flush out the pink in her cheeks and the red of her nails, some blues and yellows to try to capture the way the sunlight tried to peek through the drawn curtains.

Steve had gotten used to the magnetic pull of her, the need to be around her, to touch her. Yesterday, he wouldn’t have thought twice about shedding his clothes and slipping into bed with her, pressing up against her and holding her close. Now, though the idea appealed to him, he was content to rest on the couch, eyes keeping watch. He hadn’t realized how strong the pull to touch her was from his end until it left him today.

He started to feel his eyelids droop as he smudged the pencil line of the blanket around her shoulder. He wasn’t normally one to nap, but it would help pass the time. Going for the entire day without touching her seemed like a monumental task. He slipped his pencil into his notebook and let it fall on his chest as he stretched out.

A quick catnap would help the day pass faster.

~*~

* * *

Peggy rolled, the blankets tangling around her. She took a deep breath, wiggling her fingers and toes and taking stock on how she felt. The nausea was gone, and though she’d slept for what she thought must have been a few hours she didn’t feel refreshed.

She turned, blinking her eyes open. Through the crack in the door she could see Steve, sprawled on the couch that was far too small, head thrown back and mouth wide open, his sketchbook perilously close to falling from his slack fingers on his chest.

She couldn’t help but smile. He seemed so soft, so innocent, so much like that small man she’d first met, even if the sheer size of him made the couch seem more like a piece of child’s furniture. Peggy slipped from the bed, wrapping her robe around herself as she made her way out into the living room. She snuck quietly across the floor, feeling the need to run her fingers through his hair, to be near him.

She wanted to believe it was working, but so far she’d only felt the ill effects that Howard had talked about. They’d have to stay away from one another for hours to see if it truly worked, and based on the pull she felt she wondered if they were even capable of that if they were this close to one another.

She did some quick math, glancing at the clock across the room and decided that it must be doing something. She should have felt _something_ by now. The only thing she felt was the need to be around him, no tingling or discomfort at all.

Peggy stopped at the edge of the couch, one hand holding her robe together, the other gently playing over his hair, touching only enough to feel the softness against her fingertips, not enough to graze his scalp and tempt fate.

She felt a need to wrap herself in him. Not the all-consuming need that had been based in need and pain and sex, but a different kind of feeling that felt like it was spreading from deep in her, to wrap him up and be wrapped in him and stay in this small little apartment until they couldn’t avoid the outside world any longer.

He shifted under her, taking a deep breath and reaching out. She scooted her hips away, avoiding his reach but kept her hand on his head. He groaned unhappily, and she made soothing, shushing noise ass he raked her finger nails through his hair. “We’re already doing a horrible job of not touching, my darling. Let’s not tempt fate.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but he turned, pressing his head into her touch. She reached out, saving the notebook from crashing to the floor. She set it on the coffee table in front of him and smiled, the pencil rolling out and flipping the book open to the picture of her. She kissed his hair, eyes closed softly, warmth radiating through her.

The little apartment felt warm, home, and enough for now. She wasn’t in pain, wasn’t hurting, and she had Steve. It was enough, could be enough, for now at least. She slipped into the kitchen, trying to keep things as quiet as she could while she made herself another cup of tea. Would he still sketch when there were chores to be done? Would they still be so gentle with one another when the stresses of daily life were different? Would he stay with the SSR? Would they let her keep being a spy or cast her off, saying women weren’t necessary when there wasn’t a war on? There were so many unknowns, but she still somehow felt warm, solid, and happy.

Whatever Howard’s hormones were doing to her, she didn’t much mind; it was the calmest she’d felt in weeks. 

~*~

* * *

She was still sitting in the kitchen, the dregs of her tea cold in her hands, when Steve lumbered in, eyes glazed over. She watched as he pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the tap, chugging the contents down before refilling it over and over again. He drank with a single mindedness that put her on edge. It was only after he’d drank what she thought was nearly a gallon that he stopped, hands on the edge of the counter, panting to catch his breath.

“Thirsty?” Peggy asked quietly, unsure if he’d even registered she was in the room.

He took a slow, deep breath and hung his head. “Yeah I—” He took another and turned, wiping the drips of water from his lips. “I woke up and I just felt like I hadn’t had anything to drink in days.” His eyes caught the afternoon sun out the window. “How long was I asleep?”

She smiled, standing and walking her mug to the sink. “We both lost a few hours there, I think. It’s almost 4.” She turned, brushing his hair from his eyes, looking him over. “Are you alright otherwise?”

He nodded quickly, almost too quickly for her liking. “Yeah, I’m… I’m just… didn’t think I’d sleep that long. I’m a little out of it.”

She let her lips kiss his shoulder, careful to keep her skin away from his. “We can continue to blame stress and Hydra. I’ll have it no other way.”

He set his hands on her hips, as careful as she was. “How about you? Still feeling alright?”

She nodded, a smile on her lips. “Stomach’s still a touch unhappy, but I think that’s more from not eating since early this morning. Otherwise, I’m…” she shrugged her shoulders, still cautious about expressing her happiness, “zero.” She couldn’t help the way the smile bloomed on her face. “We haven’t touched enough for me to not feel something by now. I don’t want to go too far, but I’m…optimistic.”

“Good, good.” He smiled tightly, his eyes struggling with something he didn’t want to share. His hands were awkward at her hips, like he had to remind himself to be gentle with her, and his shoulders were stiff. She narrowed her eyes at him, waiting. They knew each other well enough that she didn’t have to say anything for him to know he’d been caught. He shook his head, resigned and stepping away. “I think whatever side effects I’m going to get are hitting me now. I just feel… weird. A little… I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

“What can I do?” She asked, stepping back and giving him some more space as he leaned back against the counter.

He looked out the window, crossing his arms and shaking his head. After a long, quiet moment he licked his lips and turned back to her. “Let me make dinner… well, early dinner. Maybe it’ll help me focus.”

Peggy didn’t like the way he looked: a little sallow, eyes a little hollow, the way he looked after he’d been hurt in a firefight and he was trying to be brave for everyone else. She backed away, giving him the room. “I’ll be reading, just call if you need help.”

His smile was genuine, even if it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think I can handle some chicken and dehydrated mashed potatoes.”

Peggy licked her lips, eyes still dead set on him. She thought about joking, about trying to break the tension, but she couldn’t shake the feeling something hadn’t gone quite right with his dose. “I can call Howard, he could be here in fifteen minutes he said if anything went wrong.”

This time, the smile did make it to his eyes. “I’m fine, Peg. I promise.” He crossed to her, taking her head in his hand and dropping a kiss on her forehead. “And I’ll tell you if I’m not, ok?”

It was the sincerity in his eyes that finally gave her some sense of footing. “Alright.” She stepped back, removing the temptation to give in to more touching. “Don’t burn my potatoes.”

~*~

* * *

Peggy’s stomach was growling loud enough for Steve to hear by the time he announced dinner was ready. She tried to make a joke of it, but it fell flat as he set a full plate in front of her.

They ate silently, Steve quietly watching Peggy as she filled her mouth, struggling to keep her lips closed and be ladylike as she chewed. “I’m starved,” she tried to justify with a little laugh between bites, feeling his eyes on her. He ate sparingly, his eyes darting to her each time she took a bite. “Must be the…” she stopped, putting another spoonful in her mouth, watching as Steve only nodded, agreeing to say it was ‘just another side effect.’ She scraped the end of the mashed potatoes from her plate, wrapping her tongue around the spoon, eyes widening in confusion when Steve switched out his mostly full plate for her empty one. “Darling?”

He kept his face carefully blank. “Aren’t you hungry?”

She tipped her head, looking at him cautiously. She was very aware of how much Steve’s increased metabolism needed food, and knew very well how much he could eat. “Aren’t you? You’ve barely eaten.”

“You need it more.”

She smiled, trying to break the tense look in his eyes. “I was just hungry. I’m fine now. And there’s plenty more if—”

He dropped his fork on the empty plate in front of him, standing and pacing away. The air in the room was suddenly thick and it reminded her off too many debriefs where they’d lost and he felt responsible. The deja-vu nearly choked her it hit her so hard, but it helped her re-center and take charge of the situation.

She squared her shoulders, staring at his back. “Tell me.”

“I have to take care of you,” he bit out, grabbing the top of the kitchen doorframe and leaning into it.

With his arms up his shirt tightened around him and she could see just how tense he was, his muscles corded and ready for a fight. She stood slowly, cautiously closing this distance between them. “You are, Steve.” Her voice was soft but sure, and she left no room for arguments. “I’ve never been safer than I am at this very moment.”

He turned so fast she barely registered he’d moved before she was in his arms, his forehead pressed against her tight. It wasn’t concern, but pain on his face: his eyes shut tight, jaw working to try to find the words. “You’re not,” he finally whispered. “Everything in me is screaming that I’m not keeping you safe and…” he dropped his head, gathering her closer and burying his face in her neck. He took a deep breath in like he was breathing her into himself, trying to take her in and surround her. “I need to do better,” he muttered, “I have to do better.”

Peggy was stunned, and could do nothing but wrap her arms around him and hold him tight as he held her.

This was not a side effect Howard had prepared them for.

She cradled his face in her hands, gently pushing him back so she could see his eyes. “I am safe, Steve. I am here, with you, and I am perfectly safe.” She let her hand wipe at the sweat that started to show at his brow, over his jaw and down to his neck where she could feel his racing pulse finally starting to slow. She kissed him gently, pulling away before he could react to her lips. “I am fine. What do I need to do to help you see that?”

His eye squinted shut again as he shook his head. “Don’t know,” he mumbled, making her want to hold him close until whatever this was passed. She’d never seen him like this and it scared her.

She kissed him again, and this time, she could feel his pulse start to slow more the longer they touched.

Even if this was working for her, it seemed to be only hurting him.

Peggy pulled her lips away, pressing her cheek to his and running her hand up and down his back until his pulse quieted under her fingers. When he was significantly calmer, she finally broke the silence. “We need to call Howard.”

It was like he’d never been calm, the way his pulse jumped under her fingers and how his hands grasped tightly at her waist, holding her possessively to him. “No.”

She leaned back, eyes stern. “Steve…”

He shook his head, turning away from her to try to hide whatever it was he was feeling. “We have to go back tomorrow, anyway. Just…” He sighed, turning back to her, his eyes sad and begging. “Not yet, ok?”

If he’d said anything else, she would have fought him, but the words echoed her own past pleading to avoid doctors so closely that she found she couldn’t deny him. He’d always followed her lead, and she found she could do no less. She swallowed hard, and nodded. “But you have to eat something,” she heard herself say, unsure of where it came from or why it was suddenly so important to her.

At his nod she pulled him to the table, sitting him back down in his chair and then scooting his full plate back in front of him. He looked at it, then looked back up at her, and she could only shake her head at him.

She should have been angry, but instead she felt like she was soothing some large, wounded animal laying at her feet, unsure of how to take care of himself now that his fight was over. She perched herself on his lap, reaching over and taking the fork to feed him.

Steve’s hand stopped her own, eyes bewildered at his own actions. “Are you… are you sure you ate enough? You’re not hungry?”

She let her free hand fall over his cheek, resting at his shoulder. “That’s how you’re taking care of me?” He opened his mouth to answer, but he huffed air from his nose as he shrugged and shook his head. He didn’t know, and she didn’t, either. “Alright, then.”

Peggy, nowhere near hungry but understanding baser instincts when she saw them, took a small bite off the end of the piece of chicken on the fork. She held the rest out to him as she chewed, their eyes locked as he pulled the piece from the fork with his teeth and ate it.

It almost made her feel better that Steve seemed as baffled by his behavior as she was, that his eyes were lost and frustrated as he seemed to need to wait until she ate before he could, though as they neared the end of the plate, he took the fork from her and fed himself, his grasp somewhat looser as he held her in his lap.

“First thing tomorrow, no delaying,” she demanded softly as he pushed the plate away. He nodded and she moved from his lap, busying herself and her mind with the dishes. She tried to avoid the racing questions, the wild what-ifs that started to run through her mind as she cleaned the pans and plates, Steve still sitting quietly behind her.

She couldn’t help but smile when she felt him behind her as she stood at the sink, rinsing the last plate. It felt more like the way things had been for him to step up behind her with her hands filled with soap suds. He pressed tight against her, chest to back, and let his hands wrap around her, holding her low on her belly. His nose nuzzled against her nape as she set the last plate to dry, leaning back into him. She heard him take a deep breath in, the air tickled over her skin and made her shiver.

Peggy reached one arm up behind her, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, holding his lips against her flesh as he began to kiss and nip. It was different from how he’d held her at the sink the other day: it was more insistent, more possessive. She tried to avoid the dark thoughts that wanted to seep into her mind as he touched her. He needed her touch right now, and that’s all she cared about.

She couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he felt every time she’d come to him, worked up and needing something only he could give.

Steve growled, low in his throat. It was deep and dark and domineering and something about it excited her. They were supposed to be avoiding touching, but she had barely touched him all day and she felt starved for him.

He felt wound up behind her, the power in his body held back and ready to burst. She wondered if it was the hormones or just the feeling of finally deciding to allow herself to touch him after all the hours of trying to stay apart. Either way, it had been hours since they’d touched before dinner and she felt no pain, no tingling, no discomfort but she yearned for him like she couldn’t explain.

He spun her in his arms, lifting her on to the counter and taking her lips. She kissed him back, happy to let him take the lead, his eyes dark with lust.

~*~

* * *

He held her possessively as he slept, in a way Peggy couldn’t ever remember Steve holding her before. On one hand, she felt safe and protected, but on the other, this new, darker side to him was concerning. It was the only reason she’d relented, the only reason she’d allowed him to touch her.

She’d only seen it when she couldn’t process it: when she’d been in so much pain and his skin was the only thing that would bring her relief. She could almost remember the look on his face in the hospital, and again when he crashed through the wall, but tonight she could see his eyes, feel the energy burning through him and she knew, she knew deep down, something about what Howard had done had caused this switch in him.

Touching him helped, just like it had helped her, but he said he didn’t feel pain. He couldn’t describe it to her beyond the idea of keeping her safe. She didn’t know what that meant to him, didn’t know why it tapped into his need to see her eat, then to see her safely to the bedroom, to hold her until he needed to touch and kiss her again, then to hold her until he fell asleep.

She wasn’t sure if the touching was helping all that much, but at least he was asleep.

The knot of anxiety in her stomach started to rise, acid burning and that sickly wave feeling ran through her as she broke out in a sweat. She tried to push away from him but his arms twined around her tighter.

“Mine,” he mumbled in his sleep.

“Steve, let go,” she pushed against him while attempting to slow the rising nausea within her, but trying to move his arms was like trying to dislodge metal clamps. “Please, I have to—”

She knew he wasn’t fully awake, she’d encountered this sleepy, half cognizant Steve before. Usually, he was soft and gentle and smiled at her. This one grumbled and repeated his possession of her, holding tight.

Finally, Peggy could take it no more. She kicked him between the legs, hard, and scrambled to the edge of the bed when he loosened his grip. She didn’t make it to the bathroom, but managed to vomit on the floor, avoiding ruining the bed.

By the time she turned back he was wide awake, pressed up on his elbow, eyes clearer than she’d seen them in hours. She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, kicking her way out of the blankets and climbing out of the bed from the bottom, avoiding looking at him.

“Peggy…” He sat, still confused, “what…”

She nearly ran from the room, making it to the bathroom just in the nick of time. When there was nothing left to come back up, she flushed the toilet and rinsed her mouth before heading back to the bedroom.

The lights were on and Steve was drying the floor where he’d cleaned up her mess. He stopped and stood when she leaned on the doorjamb, spent. “Peggy, I’m so sorry.” He looked down at the towel in his hand and then tossed it over by the laundry bag before looking up to her, his blue eyes full of confusion and sadness. “I’ll call Howard right now.”

She nodded, hands still shaking a bit from vomiting. “I’m going to make a cup—”

“I’ve got it,” he said quickly, moving to her and pressing a kiss to her hair before lifting her from her feet and setting her on the bed. “Lay down, I’ll bring it in after I’ve called Howard.”

She watched him go, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She wanted to argue, but he seemed clearer, more like himself, and she was afraid to open up whatever Pandora’s Box was behind his need to take care of her, at least until Howard got there.

Peggy slipped back into bed, building the pillows up behind her. She might be better, but that meant nothing if Steve was worse.


End file.
